


Werewolf Apocalypse

by fine_feathered



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 06:29:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2458250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fine_feathered/pseuds/fine_feathered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Apocalypse has come and gone. Werewolves roam the earth, solitary beasts that hunger for human flesh. The only safe heaven is known simply as the city. It is a cold place full of hunger and sorrow, for like an hourglass the time for humanity runs short. Castiel is the city’s best scout and soldier who often ventures beyond the walls of the city for supplies. One day, he makes a rookie mistake and his life is changed forever. He meets a person, perhaps even a creature, that could be the beautiful end Castiel has always desired.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this work as part of the Dean/Cas Bigbang 2014. I was lucky enough to get the extremely talented Anna to create stunning artwork for my story. You can find it all here:
> 
> http://lucyannethropy.livejournal.com/29868.html
> 
> Please check it out and leave her a comment! Thank you.

 

Chapter 1- Plough

The gargantuan gates swung open, creaking on their rusted hinges. The gates were a mixture of scrap metal: car doors, chicken wire, sides of container units. It was layer upon layer, guarding against the monsters that roamed outside. People shouted on top of the walls, “Two exiting! Due back before sunset!”

 

Squeezing through the small gap created between the half opened gates, a man in dark clothes stepped out onto the highway. Like the castles of old, the new city had been built on an interstate junction where the highroads were the new moats. Cars littered the path ahead, useless toys of the old world as they were too risky to use. They were noisy and slow, nothing like the monsters that could chase them. “Hurry up would you, Castiel, I have a date with a pretty little thing called Monique.”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes and adjusted the strap of his M4 carbine on his shoulder. “Somehow, I can’t find it in myself to care, Ion.” His companion chuckled as he followed on behind him, walking next to the cement wall that protected them from the deadly drop. “Man, you need to get out more, find someone to have fun with. You do know what fun is right?”

 

Shrugging, Castiel used the barrel of his rifle to gesture to the gray wasteland they were walking into. “I’m out right now.”

 

Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Ion sighed, “Okay, I give up. Don’t come crying to me when you’re an old gray spinster with no one to hold your hand.”

 

Castiel chuckled as he leaned down to peer through a car window. These cars had probably been checked a hundred times already seeing as they were so close to the city but it never hurt to look. Inside, he saw a teddy bear next to a baby seat and a large gouge had exposed the fluff and springs in the seat beside it. Standing up straight again, he kept on walking down the abandoned highway. The wind whistled behind them, making the bits of rubbish skitter like giant spiders across the cracking tarmac. But it was the howling of the city behind him that truly made this desert eerie.

 

The city, like the gate, had been made of salvaged materials. It clung to the top of a highway junction. The wolves couldn’t climb, couldn’t jump very high so they had made strong walls of metal and within those walls was the last human city for hundreds of miles, with hundreds of people crammed into the tiny space. At the centre of it all was the lighthouse, the last beacon of humanity.

 

Stepping over a fallen streetlight, Castiel saw something in the corner of his eye. Raising his gun, he turned to face it. A raven looked at him from the roof of a rusty car, putting its beady eye on him.

 

Ion walked past him unperturbed. Following after him, Castiel relaxed again. It was midday, the wolves didn’t like bright light so they should be safe. But people had been wrong before and it had cost them their lives.

 

Eventually, after three hours of trekking through debris and across the cracked roadways they reached the edge of the known zone. This was their mission: scouting beyond that point. Taking out a map from his satchel, Ion made a note of where they were and began to draw what he saw ahead. They were still on a highway but it had moved down to sea level. To their left were fields and to their right was a forest of silver birch trees.

 

Castiel kept following the road as Ion busily wrote down landmarks, as well as any houses or buildings that he saw that they could search for salvageable material. Ion stopped and pointed to a barn. “We need a new plough, the blade on the last one broke.” Following the direction to where Ion was pointing, Castiel saw the barn with the red roof. Between them and it were flat fields with tall grass. There could be wolves in there, the smaller but fast kind. Chewing his lip, Castiel walked to the edge of the tarmac. “I’m not sure, Ion, it’s dangerous.”

 

Ion growled and gestured with his gun at the barn. “So is starving to death. The last time we had a food shortage people stared turning on one another. That plough can till the fields, give us more crops. Isn’t it a risk worth taking?”

 

Shaking his head, Castiel began to walk again. “Have you even thought about how we would carry it back?”

 

A hand on his shoulder stopped him and Ion spun him around. “We could carry it back together, we’d be heroes!”

 

“Keep your voice down.” Castiel hissed as he scanned the forest behind them. “Fine, have it your way. For the record it’s a stupid idea. I’ll take point.”

 

Ion’s face lit up and leveled his AK47. Castiel held no illusions this wasn’t all about impressing some girl. Still, Ion had a point. They had large fields at the back of the city but it was hard work and it wasn’t made any easier by the sea just beyond it that put salt in the air. Having a plough was essential to make the most of the soil.

 

Breathing out a heavy exhale, Castiel waded into the tall grass. It tickled his arms as he walked, soaked his trousers with dew but he hardly felt any of that. Instead he scanned his surroundings, waiting for the telltale flash of bright eyes – like neon lights.

 

Behind him, he could hear Ion walking but he was silent too. Both of them had seen the werewolves before. Some of them were big, some of them were small. Others were quick and others were strong. There were even rumors of some werewolves, who were normally twisted creatures between canine and human, that appeared to be giant wolves that prowled the wasteland, and another rumor that there was an alpha that could control them all. In Castiel’s opinion, it was all just fear mongering, until they got a confirmed sighting of anything unusual.

 

Finally, they emerged out of the grass and stepped onto the baked dirt outside the shed. Castiel pointed to himself, then to the door and then indicated for Ion to open it. Standing in the open doorway, Castiel leveled the muzzle of his gun and rested his finger on the trigger. The door creaked open, a long harsh sound as it moved on its rusty hinges. Castiel grit his jaw. They were making too much noise.

 

Then, he was looking inside. There was nothing. Blowing out a breath of relief, Castiel walked inside. There was hay rotting and moldy on the loft above him. In front of him was an old rusted tractor and most importantly there was a plough. Ion shook his head, grinning as he went up to him, kneeling in front of it. “Looks like it’s in good condition. It’s gonna be hard as hell to move this thing. It’ll take both of us to shift it. But if we can at least get it out onto the road we can come back with a horse.”

 

Suddenly, there was a creak above them. Looking up, Castiel saw it. Bright blood red eyes staring down at him from the rafters. It was a long creature, it lay low and flat to the wood with sharp claws that dug into the wood. The werewolf growled, pulling back its lips to show its needle like white teeth. Ion was the first to shoot, a loud burst of noise in Castiel’s ear. There was a howl of pain before the werewolf scurried, angular legs like a spider as it moved along the beam and then lightly jumped down to face them. Castiel stared at it for a moment in horror. He had never seen one like this before.

 

Ion shot it again but this time, he missed as the werewolf spun to the left and it landed a mere inch in front of Ion.

 

“Ion!” Squeezing the trigger, Castiel shot, hitting the werewolf in the neck. But it didn’t go down; instead, it turned to face him, an angry growl reverberating in its chest. Over the back of the beast, Castiel saw Ion running from the barn.” Shit,” Castiel spat, now facing the werewolf alone. Judging from its physique, there was no way he was going to outrun it. No, he’d have to kill it.

 

He shot again as it lunged towards him and the bullet hit, right between the eyes. The werewolf collapsed with a whine, dead on the floor as blood began to seep from the bullet wound. Sighing, Castiel wiped his brow with the black sleeve of his coat. The sound would have drawn others.

 

Leveling the rifle again, he went outside, walking past the plough. He wondered where Ion was, whether he was waiting for him on the road or if he had run for the safety of the city. Swearing again, Castiel shook his head, moving quickly back outside, through the long grass that tickled along his exposed skin. Emerging up onto the road, he looked around and at the forest on the other side of the road he saw someone. It was a man‒ that much was certain from the broad shoulders and how tall he was. “Ion?” Castiel called. But the man turned away, walking further into the forest. It…wasn’t Ion?

 

Suddenly, there was a roar, a sound that split his eardrums and he gasped. Turning on his heel he came face to face with a huge werewolf. It stood on two legs and towered over him, blocking the sun from touching him. It growled, thick gelatinous drool dripping from its long yellow fangs. Quickly, Castiel raised the barrel of the gun but it was too little, too late. The werewolf flung out its clawed paw and struck Castiel on the arm, sending the rifle out of his hands and skittering onto the cracked bitumen road.

 

Its red eyes stared down at him, it parted its maw and Castiel stood there for a moment, paralysed by flight or fight. But as it lunged, teeth snapping, he ducked and rolled out of the way. Gasping, he held his shoulder tight, the impact with the road made him grit his teeth as he stepped back from the werewolf again. The werewolf seemed to smile at him. There was a preternatural intelligence in its crimson gaze that sent shivers running up and down his spine. It leapt at him, suddenly going down onto four legs and it swiped at his leg. Then, Castiel was in the air, dangling from the werewolf’s paw. Blood rushed down to his head, made him feel sick and dizzy but the werewolf just held him, teeth bared as it drew its head back, ready to rip apart his dark clothes and taste his flesh. Just as the werewolf growled, ready to bite, Castiel reached up, fingers scrabbling with the catch of his knife belt and then he suddenly drew out his dagger and forced his hand forward with as much power and strength as he could muster. It sunk deep into the werewolf’s gut and it howled, throwing him.

 

Closing his eyes, Castiel tucked his chin against his chest but then there was a blinding light, a crack of pain and he was staring up into the sky. Gray clouds moved over him, pregnant with rain.

 

He heard the creature howl, a rattling guttural sound followed by a thump that shook the ground. Castiel licked his lips, tasted something metallic amidst the fresh rain.

 

 _“He made a right mess out of you, now, didn’t he?”_ Castiel stared up into bottle green eyes, a freckled face but then the man turned away as he spoke to someone else. “ _I can’t leave him out here can I? They’ll eat him and did you see his moves? He was awesome! No, I’m taking him to the cabin. It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I’ve got a good feeling about this.”_


	2. Wood

 

He was staring up at the sky again but this time there were trees above him, casting down dappled light. The rain had passed but his clothes still felt damp. Groaning, he moved, fingers curling in the blankets. Ion must have come back for him and rescued him from that werewolf, with someone else, the man with green eyes. But how did he do it so fast? Pushing up against the bed, he suddenly heard a growl. His eyes widened, wait…

 

He was lying on fur, it was living and breathing, shifting under him. The trees above him were changing too. Looking down, he bit out a curse. He was on /something/ a furry horse? No, a wolf? Throwing himself off it, he stumbled down onto the ground and spun to face the creature. It had startling emerald eyes, black fur and its nose was wrinkled in a snarl. It was easily the size of a horse. “Hey, Impala, shut the hell up.” From behind the wolf a man appeared. The freckled, green eyed man that he had seen before.

 

“What the hell is this?” Castiel snapped, heart thundering a tattoo against his chest. Reaching for his knife, his fingers skirted along his leather belt yet his stomach dropped when he realised it was gone.

 

The man smirked at him, “Looking for this?” He asked, as he drew it out from under his own belt. He twirled it effortlessly and then caught it in his other hand. The wolf at his side stared at Castiel as a permanent growl wafted from its cavernous chest.

 

“Look,” The man began again, “We’re not gonna hurt you. We saved you from that wolf.” Pointing behind him using the knife, he continued, “My cabin isn’t far from here. You can rest up there, tend to your wounds and then get back on your way.” Castiel glared at the both of them as all of his instincts screamed at him to turn around and run, never look back. But even now he could feel his head pounding from what he guessed was a concussion and his shoulder ached.

 

“So, I just take it on your word that you’re a good guy, that you’re not gonna kill me when I’m sleeping?”

 

Walking past the wolf, the man flipped the knife so that the grip was facing Castiel. “I don’t know if you noticed or not, but you’ve been asleep for a couple of hours. We’ve both had plenty of chances to gut you in your sleep and we’re not forcing you to come with us. You can turn around and go back right now. So relax, capisce?”

 

Castiel stared at his knife, then slowly reached out for it and took the cold handle. Maybe it was all a bad idea but he was exhausted, aching all over and he had no idea where he was. Plus, the guy had a point; he’d already had plenty of opportunity to kill him. Not only that but this giant wolf, the one where rumors abounded about a giant wolf, an alpha, were all true despite his disbelief.

 

Yet here the creature was, staring back at him with striking green eyes and a black glossy coat. If anything, the man beside the wolf was more intriguing yet. For how was he surviving out here? How did he train this wolf?

 

“I’ll come, thank you.”

 

Smiling at him, the man took his hand again and shook it with a firm grip. “The name’s Dean Winchester. You’ve already met Impala.” The wolf huffed and continued on walking, leaving them behind but Dean didn’t seem to worry that their sole protection deep into werewolf country was marching off. “What’s your name?”

 

For a moment, Castiel hesitated. Should he lie? But what was the point? “Castiel.”

 

Dean quirked an eyebrow, “That’s a weird name. Alright Cas, follow us. It’s not much further and I’m sure Impala will let you hitch a ride if you need it.” From up ahead, Castiel heard the wolf growl and it hunched his shoulders.

 

“Ignore him, he’s just not used to people.” Dean shot him a smile and handed him back his rifle as he did. “I’ve kept the bullets but I’ll give them back to you when you’re ready to leave.”

 

Castiel simply nodded, fixated on what Dean had said. The wolf had to be used to people. Dean was right here next to him. But then Dean was walking away and he looked around at the tall trees, casting shadows on him and there was a hollow howl from somewhere within this deciduous labyrinth.

 

Taking a step forward, he gasped and stumbled, immediately reaching out for the rough bark of one of the trees. “Damn it.”

 

Turning back around, Dean shot him a look. “Are you okay?”

 

Castiel shook his head, why did this have to happen to him? It had all been so routine; he was one of the best scouts in the city because he was cautious and he didn’t do stupid things like try to salvage a plough. “My ankle, it’s hurt.”

 

Swearing under his breath, Dean whistled, “Hey, Impala, get your furry ass back here and stop acting like such a princess.” The wolf turned and growled, green eyes almost luminous from the gloom provided by the thick canopy above them. Still, the wolf obeyed and came back to them. As it approached him, Castiel could feel his heart pattering with fear. The bottom of the wolf’s jaw was level with the top of his head. He would be consumed by this beast in two bites, of that he was sure.

 

Dean raised an eyebrow at Castiel, “Need a hand?” Castiel shook himself out of it. “No.” He said instinctively. He had already accepted this man’s help and taking anymore truly was admitting to how weak he was. So he limped forwards and grabbed the wolf’s fur, trying to block out the sound of it growling as he pulled on the surprisingly soft fur as he awkwardly clambered onto its back. Castiel scowled as he clutched at his sore shoulder.

 

“You two suit each other. You’re both as grumpy and mean as the other.” Dean said with a huff as he led the way and Impala snapped at him, teeth gnashing but not touching him and Dean didn’t even flinch.

 

Who the hell was Dean Winchester?

 

 

Their journey wasn’t for much longer. Out from the darkness appeared a clearing soaked in sunlight. For the first time in Castiel’s life he didn’t see anything industrial, no metal, no harsh sheen of copper or messy welding – the cabin that he saw was completely made from wood and up its sides crawled vines and on the thatched roof was a thick layer of moss and white flowers. Along the side of the cabin was a small stream that trickled over smooth gray pebbles. At the back of the cabin he could see cultivated plots of land, rich with tomatoes, celeries, cabbages and the tops of carrots.

 

He shook his head. This was like something out of a storybook. He had never imagined seeing anything like this in real life. Was this how people really lived before the Apocalypse?

 

Impala turned his massive head to look at him and he snarled, white teeth bared at him. Dean slapped Impala’s side and the wolf quieted. “Stop it, he’s not going to do anything damn it.”

 

Impala whined and lowered himself down onto the grass to let Castiel off. Slipping off the wolf’s back, Castiel stood unsteadily and stared at the cabin. “Did you make that?”

 

Dean nodded, “Mostly. But it was a refurbishment job. The pipes and foundations were already here. A fire gutted the place before I came.” Standing close to him, Dean leaned his shoulder against him, “Hold my shoulder if you want help getting in.” Castiel narrowed his eyes at him but didn’t say anything. He obediently took Dean’s shoulder with a hand and he limped to the door. There was a hole in the middle of the door towards the top and in the hole was an intricate scene carved in wood. It was a meadow with a wolf howling up at the sky. Even the tiny wildflowers were carved with painstaking accuracy, so much so that Castiel could make out the daisies from the dandelions.

 

Dean looked at him from the corner of his eye. “You can admire my wood later, let’s get you inside.” Dean smirked at him, amusement shining in his eyes as though he was expecting to get a rise from Castiel. Instead, Castiel stared at him blankly.

 

Pouting, Dean pushed open the door and led Castiel inside before helping him into one of the wooden chairs. Inside, he spied far more human, industrial, things. On the walls were outdated calendars of classic cars, on the window sill there were old beer bottles that were filled with coins and in the kitchen he could see cutlery and crockery stacked up in the sink ready to be watched.

 

Sitting across from him at the table, Dean began to tug off his boots and he watched the side of Castiel’s face as his blue gaze darted over his new surroundings, for the time being at least. “What? Were you expecting something else?”

 

Shaking his head, Castiel glanced back at Dean. “I don’t know what I expected, just nothing like this.”

 

Dean watched him curiously and as the sun caught the greens of his eyes, Castiel froze and stared at him in horror. His eyes had **changed**.

 

Quickly, Dean stood up and turned away, padding over to the kitchen sink where he started to roll up his sleeves. Staring at his back, Castiel clutched at the edge of the table. Now it made sense when Dean had mentioned that Impala wasn’t used to humans. Dean wasn’t human either. Yet all of the werewolves that he had seen hadn’t looked at all human. The closest to human were the ones that walked on two legs and could still use their hands, like the one that had beaten him on the road. “What-?”

 

Dean turned, eyes alight with anger. “I could have left you on that road. Heck, that’s what Impala wanted me to do. But I didn’t. I killed that werewolf to protect you. All I ask is that you don’t try to hurt me or Impala and that you keep those kinds of questions to yourself.”

 

Castiel huffed, nostrils flaring. “I hadn’t asked you a question yet. Don’t presume to know.”

 

Smiling bitterly, he turned back to the sink. “I’m pretty damn stupid but not that dumb.” Turning the tap for the sink, Castiel heard the water splashing into the ceramic basin and he leaned back in his chair, resting his injured foot on its heel. Dean had been right, he wanted to ask what he was, for he wasn’t human and didn’t seem to be a werewolf. The subject was obviously a touchy one for him. Looking around, Castiel grabbed a magazine off the table and dragged it towards him. If Dean was bringing him back to the cabin to eat him like the not so proverbial bad wolf he suspected that by now it was too late for him to do anything. Flicking open the magazine, he began to read about classic rock rankings according to someone called ‘The Rolling Stones’.

 

Soon, Dean was done with his washing and he stacked up his now clean dinnerware onto the draining board next to the sink. With a sigh, he walked back to Castiel and he looked down at him. From this angle, Castiel could see all of the freckles dusting his skin and now that he had seen it once, he could see something, feral, no beastly, in Dean’s eyes.

 

“You like the Rolling Stones?”

 

Castiel glanced down at his magazine. “I don’t know, I haven’t decided yet.” Dean cocked an eyebrow, “You mean you haven’t heard about them before you picked up that magazine.”

 

Castiel shrugged, “That’s right. We only salvage what we can for the city. Mostly tools, medical and agriculture supplies. Books and…magazines,” Castiel sounded out the word slowly, like it was foreign and he was tasting it for the first time, “Aren’t our priority. Sometimes I’ll take back toys for the children so that they can give their parents some peace.”

 

Dean smiled at him. “Charmer.” Castiel gave him a deadpan stare again and Dean grimaced and then scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Want me to take a look at your injuries? I’ve got a med kit here, some aspirin. Judging from that big ol’ cut on your forehead you might need some.”

 

Touching his forehead, Castiel winced. He could feel dried blood and a large gash. “I don’t have a headache but…I would appreciate it if you could give me some bandages for my ankle.”

 

Dean’s upper lip curled up as befuddlement tugged at his features. “You talk like a robot. Sure you don’t want an oil change instead or something?” Shaking his head, Dean didn’t wait for an answer as he walked up to a freestanding cupboard and opened up one of the drawers. From it he pulled out a battered metal box and he flicked it open as he walked back over. It was then that Castiel noticed how he walked, a slight swagger of his hips and bowed legs.

 

Kneeling in front of him Dean smacked his own knee. “Up.” Castiel’s mouth suddenly went dry and for the first time in years he stuttered. “I don’t require assistance.”

 

Instead of arguing, Dean just grabbed his leg and put his foot on his knee. From there, Castiel just let his foot stay where it was and concentrated on a cut on his hand. He hated accepting help and he had tended to his own wounds for years. He flinched when Dean took off his boots and he heard him murmur a soft sorry before continuing. Yet Dean was good at his work; quick, efficient movements as he pushed up the leg of his black combat trousers and wrapped his ankle with the bandage in the perfect amount of layers. Dean finished by fastening a bandage clip onto the outside of his ankle, making sure that everything was nice and snug. “There, that wasn’t so bad now was it?”

 

Dean packed up the rest of the bandages and clips before snapping the medical box closed. “Now I’m sure you wanna get some rest. The quicker you leave, the happier you’ll be.”

 

Deigning not to say a word, Castiel let his silence speak for him and he began to push himself up. Walking to a door, Dean opened it and gestured inside. “Take the bed, I’ll take the couch. I don’t sleep very much.” Castiel digested that information and he wondered if that meant Dean didn’t sleep at all. Hobbling over to the bedroom, Castiel got to the door and saw the bed that lay opposite to a window. Warm sunlight streamed onto the red Aztec print sheets.

 

“Thank you.”

 

He didn’t hear or see Dean’s reaction as he made his way to the bed and collapsed onto it, exhausted.

 


	3. Breakfast

It was dark when he woke up but when he rolled over onto his side he could see pinks and oranges staining the sky like a pot of watercolor had been spilt onto black paint. Groaning, he clutched his head as a hammer thumped at the inside of his skull. Perhaps he did have a concussion; after all there was no reasonable explanation as to why he would hitch a ride with a giant wolf and something that wasn’t human yet didn’t look like any of the other werewolves he had seen. Sliding a hand under his pillow, he watched the sky. The walls in the city were so high up that you had to look up to see the sky. In all of his life it had never been possible to simply lie down and watch a sunrise transpire right before his eyes. It was beautiful. Against a cluster of dark trees he saw a huge shadow and it was moving, walking along the perimeter of the clearing that the cottage sat in. Suddenly, the shadow stopped and green reflective eyes zeroed in on him. It was Impala, Castiel realized, and he sighed as the wolf looked away from him and began to walk again.

 

Sitting up, he scrubbed at his eyes with his knuckles and then swung his legs over the edge of the bed. There was still one thing that had bothered him but with all of the crazy stuff going on he hadn’t asked. Why had Dean saved him? He was just another human, a member of a dying race that couldn’t do anything for him. Pushing his lips into a line, he limped to the door and then opened it, looking out into the dark room.

 

“Dean?”

 

From the corner of his eye, he saw a figure sit up on the couch. “You’re up, want some grub?”

 

Castiel nodded and stumbled into the darkness as he heard the springs in the old battered couch creak. “I’ve got some eggs, tomatoes, bacon – that sound good to you?”

 

A light flared on, an oil lamp and Castiel squinted. “Bacon and eggs? Where’d you get that?”

 

Dean laughed, shaking his head. “There are some wild boar in this forest and as for the eggs I have a chicken coop outside for my ladies.”

 

A snort escaped Castiel and he saw a faint blush color Dean’s cheeks. “Ladies huh?”

 

Sitting down in one of the chairs at the table, he nodded his thanks to Dean when he put the oil lantern in front of him. “So you have water, but no electricity?” Castiel asked as he gestured to the lantern.

 

Dean shook his head, “The electricity is a work in progress. I found some solar panels, I just have to haul them here, along with a fridge and a television. I’ve never seen one playing before, I’ve already got a collection of DVDs. I’m excited to get it all up and running.”

 

Castiel heard the clicking of the gas stove being lighted and he smelt gas burning. Soon, he heard fat crackling as Dean began to cook.

 

Licking his lips, Castiel asked the question that had been bouncing around in his head. “Why did you save me, why are you still looking after me? You’ve brought me to your home, how do you know I won’t bring people back from the city here?”

 

The faint outline of Dean’s shoulders slumped and he sighed, looking over his shoulder at Castiel. His green eyes were vibrant, luminous and haunting in the dark. “That would be a bad idea. Lots of people would die. Trust me.”

 

Castiel squinted, “I’m not going to. But I would like to know why.”

 

Castiel heard something slide, wood against wood and then he heard a knife against the chopping board. Faintly, he could smell fresh tomatoes.

 

“I guess,” Dean began, “Because I’m curious about humans and…” Shaking his head, Dean went quiet. “Stuff is always the same here and I brought you here for the same reason I’m going to get a television. I’m…”

 

Castiel felt an odd ache in his chest. “It’s okay, I know.” Dean smiled at him, the warm light of the lamp catching the expression.   


He was lonely, Castiel realised. All alone in the woods and who knew what kind of companion Impala was – if that was what he was.

 

Putting that question away for a later time, he watched as Dean plated up and walked over, placing one of the stacked dishes in front of him. There were plenty of rashers of bacon, at least three large tomatoes and three fried eggs sunny side up. Castiel’s mouth watered at the sight of all of the food and his belly growled and he shifted in his chair to try and disguise the sound.

 

But judging from the sly smile Dean was sporting he heard it. Cutting into his bacon, Castiel broke the yolk of the egg and let the golden liquid leak onto the crispy bacon. “I don’t think I’ve had a meal this big in years.”

 

Dean hummed, “Yeah, you got some kind of rationing system over there? I guess that’s why you and your dumb ass friend were trying to grab that plough.”

 

Ignoring the remark about Ion, he kept on eating. “Yes, we have ration cards. The more work you do the more stamps you get. Being a scout and a soldier I do alright for food.” He shrugged and kept on eating. “Others have it harder than I do.” That’s why he helped them, gave the less able people he knew anything that he could. But he wasn’t stupid; he needed to keep up his own strength to keep earning stamps.

 

“Fuck, that whole place sounds depressing.” Castiel looked at Dean across the table, watching as the lamplight caught his surprisingly delicate features and the bowed middle of his top lip. “I always thought it might be different. That sure, the walls are ugly as hell but that inside it might be…different.”

 

Castiel barked out a bitter laugh, “No, what you see is what you get.”

 

Turning back to their food, they ate in silence, but it wasn’t a tense or uncomfortable one strangely enough.

 

It was a struggle to eat the huge breakfast that Dean had prepared for him and he groaned as he popped the final slice of egg into his mouth, which he chewed laboriously before swallowing it audibly. Sagging back in his chair, Castiel rested a hand on his belly and shook his head. “Never again will I complain about not having enough food.”

 

Dean laughed at him, shaking his head as he collected the plates and cutlery before dumping them into the sink to be washed later. When he returned to the table, he turned off the lamp by turning the key. Slowly, Castiel’s eyes adjusted to the new and lesser light of the rising sun, bathing the wooden walls and floors of the cabin with its pastel hues.

 

“I gotta feed you up before you go, you’re all skin and bones.” Dean teased with a wink.

 

But Castiel’s expression turned serious and he put a hand on the table, lightly drumming his fingers. “Everyone back in the city will think I’m dead. I won’t tell them about you but I’m going to have to think up a pretty good reason for why I’m still alive.”

 

Dean watched him carefully and it was clear to Castiel in his pinched lips and corrugated brow that he might be regretting the decision to save him after all.

 

Suddenly, there were growls and barking outside, so loud that Castiel noticed the glass shaking in the panels. “What the fuck?” He bit out as he pushed himself up into a standing position, a hand on the back of the chair keeping him from putting too much weight onto his injured ankle.

 

“Aw shit,” Dean murmured as he ran his hand over his short cropped hair. “Stay in here, don’t come out. He wouldn’t be happy to see you.”

 

Castiel quirked an eyebrow but remained silent. Opening up a cupboard, Dean brought out a pair of crutches. They were clearly very old, battered and rusted but Castiel gratefully accepted them with a nod before slotting the padded ends under his armpits.

 

He watched as Dean left with trepidation crawling around in his gut. Dean had looked worried and now he was heading out there, all alone. Well, not quite‒ Impala looked as though he would look after Dean.

 

Walking over to one of the windows, he drew in a sharp gasp at the sight that unfolded before them. A huge shaggy werewolf had walked into the clearing. He had a dark brown coat with the ends finishing in white. It was muscular and broad with two icy blue eyes that surveyed its surroundings. Impala ran to the werewolf and he parted his maw, fangs showing and then….the wolf began to lick the werewolf and whine, tail wagging madly as though he was meeting an old friend. Even Dean was smiling and he held out a hand. Castiel’s eyes widened when the werewolf took Dean’s hand and shook it and the werewolf even smiled toothily.

 

“What the hell is going on?” He murmured. Why had Dean been so worried? Perhaps it was him being here that had caused the panic.

 

The werewolf towered above Dean, he could easily have picked him up and shook him should he had been so inclined.

 

From the way Dean was moving, he began to speak to the werewolf and the creature’s ears swiveled forwards as it listened to him. Then, the werewolf growled and looked towards the cabin, blue eyes meeting blue and the werewolf began to run, legs and arm pumping as it sped over. Impala leapt behind the wolf and bit onto his shoulder holding him in place whilst Dean stood in front of the wolf, holding out his arms.

 

Now, Castiel could hear shouting and he picked up a few words; “Benny!! No! He’s….don’t…okay?”

 

The werewolf sagged and Impala let it go. Putting two fingers into his mouth, Dean whistled, “Cas! C’mon out! Benny wants to meet you!” Castiel glared at Dean through the window, one eyebrow delicately arched. He very much doubted a very angry and very large werewolf wanted to meet him for anything other than to kill him. Still, with a shake of his head he made his way to the door, abandoning one of the crutches at the door way as he went outside.

 

The werewolf immediately straightened itself up as he walked over and a subtle growling sound emanated from its huge chest. Dean slapped the werewolf lightly on the belly, “Now what have I told you? Behave yourself.” Dean glanced between Castiel and ‘Benny’ for a moment before he licked his lips and spoke. “For a long time now Benny has been insisting that he remembers who he was before he gone and got himself bit. He says his name is Benny, that he owned a Cajun diner in Carencro Louisiana, with his wife Andrea. He also says he hasn’t killed anyone, that he’s been resisting it. So Cas, you’re the final test.”

 

Benny was staring down at him, nostrils flaring, chest heaving but Dean and Impala seemed relaxed. After a moment, Benny whined and he took a step back. Then, to Castiel’s pure astonishment Benny held out his paw. It was huge, it would eclipse Castiel’s hand if he took it and at the end of every finger was a deadly sharp claw. “Go on,” Dean urged, “It’d mean a lot to him. He might even give me his secret recipe for his famous pie. Supposedly famous.” Dean added with a roll of his eyes.

 

Swallowing hard, Castiel reached out and took the giant paw, shaking it lightly. “It’s nice to meet you,” Castiel said slowly as his tongue insisted in tying itself into knots, “I’m Castiel.”

 

The werewolf inclined his head and he grumbled and apparently Dean understood. “He says he’s happy to meet you too Castiel and that he’s grateful that you’re trusting him.”

 

Castiel shook his head, face pale, “What the hell is going on?” He snapped, “Werewolves are monsters, they’re not human anymore! I’ve been killing these things since I was ten years old. They’ve been killing my friends and family since I was born.”

 

Dean watched him, green eyes soft as Castiel ran a shaking hand through his hair and he gripped it, pulling at it as though the pain would clear the storm in his mind. “I don’t understand what’s happening. This is all seems like a very fucked up and strange dream.”

 

Sighing, Dean bit his lip. “I’ll explain if you want me to, it’s not like it’s a secret. Benny, stay with Impala, he likes it when you come around.” Benny nodded his huge head and he stroked one of his paws over Impala’s side, but instead of accepting the touch, Impala turned and lightly nipped at Benny’s arm, running after. Benny growled and ran after Impala, enjoying a game of chase. It was one of the most surreal things that Castiel had ever seen.

 

Gesturing to a wooden bench by the small stream, Dean walked him over there and then sat down, patting the space next to him for Castiel. Slowly, Castiel sat down and he leant the crutch next to the bench. He felt like he was going crazy, that everything he was seeing couldn’t possibly be real.

 

“So, where the hell do I start?” Dean asked rhetorically as he rubbed his chin. “There used to be a lot more people like me.” He began, speaking slowly and carefully, “But now it’s just me and my brother, our parents are dead. We kept ourselves separate from humanity for a very long time.” Dean smirked at Castiel, “I’m older than I look, I’ve lost count now. My father was nearly three hundred years old when he died.” Castiel gaped at Dean, unable to equate this young man with something ancient. Yet there was a sorrow in his eyes and the way he spoke, so he believed him despite how improbable it seemed.

 

“But my brother didn’t want to hide from the world, he wanted to go out and see people and different places, despite the danger. The reason we kept hidden is that our bite causes people to turn into what you call werewolves. There’s an old legend that people like me are the descendants of Romulus and Remus, that we’re half wolf and half human. But if we bite someone, they lose more than half their humanity.” For a moment, Dean went quiet and he stared at his hands. It was then that Castiel noticed a small thin scar that covered the back of his right hand.

 

Licking his lips, Dean continued on. “Each time a bite is passed on from one infected person to the next, they lost more and more of their humanity until there’s no one left.” Dean jabbed himself in the chest with his thumb, “See, if I bit you, you’d probably be okay. You’d be relatively human but you’d have more wolf like behavior than me. But you’d still be able to talk, read a book, shit like that. But say, if Benny bit you, you’d turn into something more wolf like than him. Maybe something like that creature you met in the barn.”

 

Castiel rubbed his temples, “This is a lot to take in.”

 

Dean chuckled, “I know, I just love the sound of my own voice, but I’m nearly done. So anyway, my brother left and he met a girl called Ruby. She found out what he was and insisted on him biting her. So, like the love struck puppy he was he did it. But then she bit someone, and that person she bit attacked someone else and now the world is how you see it. The infection spread, people turned into monsters.”

 

Putting his elbow on his knee, Castiel rested his brow in his forehead. “So all of this pain and suffering because of one mistake? One stupid little mistake.”

 

Dean shrugged, “I guess. My brother killed himself trying to stop it.” Castiel could hear how his throat clenched as he spoke about him, “He was a good person. He didn’t want to be a prisoner because of who he was. He didn’t want to live alone all of his life, just with his wolf as companion.” Dean turned away from Castiel and he saw how the tendon on his jaw line jumped as he clenched his jaw. He went cold for a moment, warm green eyes going cold. “And that’s how the world fell apart.”

 

Castiel bit the inside of his cheek and he nodded. “So you’ve never bitten anyone?”

 

Dean shook his head, “No, never, and I won’t ever do it.”

 

Humming in agreement, Castiel looked out over the trickling stream and behind him he could hear Impala and Benny running, huge thudding footsteps that jarred his bones. “Well, humanity has nothing left to lose. There’s no reason for you not to.”

 

Dean huffed and smiled bitterly, “Giving someone the bite **was** special. To bring someone into the family. It was almost like, I don’t know, marriage.”

 

Castiel’s lips formed an ‘o’ and he didn’t say anything else but simply stared down into the water.


	4. Glowworms

The days passed slowly but peacefully. Castiel discovered that Dean led a remarkably simple life. Nearly every day he went out into the woods and brought something back, whether it was firewood or lumber he had cut himself or food of some kind. Impala whined whenever he left but Dean told him to stay put and keep watch over him. That always made Impala growl at him and gnash his teeth before he slumped down into a pile of grumpy wolf beside the cottage as he kept his beady green eyes on him.

 

Despite his reservations, his fear of werewolves and whatever Dean was he felt his resolve slipping. He hadn’t been hurt, he had been fed and clothed and his injuries had been tended to.

 

Some days, Dean had been more quiet than others where he seemed to stare out at the world at a frown had creased his brow. After a few terse remarks and bitter one liners Castiel had learnt to keep his distance. Just like any other human, Dean had his bad days. Even that had Castiel relaxing. This was familiar ground, Dean was a person just like him.

 

Today, Dean returned with nothing useful. Instead he came back with a television. He was grinning wildly and waddling slightly as he carried the halogen tube television set. Castiel laughed and stood gingerly. He didn’t need the crutches anymore but his ankle still felt a little weak. Every day it was getting better and he knew that the quicker he got better, the sooner he would go home. He had mixed feelings about that. Dumping the television down in front of the bench, Dean spread out his arms and heaved out a heavy breath. Sweat soaked the front of his shirt and Castiel shook his head. “I thought you were supposed to be stronger than the average human.” Castiel sniped as he knelt in front of the television. Where Dean hadn’t touched it there were thick layers of dust but overall it looked to be in remarkably good condition.

 

“You try carrying that for miles and miles through the wood. Especially when a werewolf is being a bastard.”

 

Castiel looked up at Dean, eyes wide. “I thought you said you could talk to them and even control some of them.”

 

Dean shrugged, “Yeah but not all of them want to listen to me and I’m fine. More importantly, so is the television.”

 

Castiel wiped his hand over the screen, cleaning away the dust. “So what are you going to watch first?” A few days before Dean had enthusiastically shown him his DVD collection, which seemed to comprise mostly of Westerns, ‘sci-fi’ (Dean had tried to explain it to him but neither of them quite understood) and movies with a man called ‘Clint Eastwood’.

 

Dean shrugged, “I dunno, I’ve been trying to think. Maybe _The Good, The Bad and The Ugly_? Or _Pale Rider_? Maybe even one of the live recordings of the AC/DC concert.” Taking the bottom of his shirt in hand, Dean tugged it off with a sigh and began to shake off his torn pair of jeans.

 

Castiel himself was wearing something similar, jeans and a black Led Zeppelin shirt. It was hot this time of year; the city was unbearable as with its walls there was no airflow and no trees to provide any shade. Yet out here, the heat was far more bearable. “What are you doing?” Castiel asked warily as Dean pulled off his white socks. “I’m going for a swim.”

 

Then, as Dean stood up, his freckled chest and bowed legs on display he reached for the band of his boxer briefs and Castiel immediately turned away, breath tight in his chest. There were communal showers back in the city, why the hell was he acting so squeamish over some nudity now?

 

Dean laughed, sensing his discomfort. “Cas,” Turning, Castiel pursed his lips together, he specifically told people in the city not to call him that and yet every time he told Dean **not** to call him that he completely ignored him and did so anyway.

 

“No one else is here. I’m not even **human** remember? I don’t care if you see my junk and I don’t care if I see yours.” Turning on his heel, Dean walked to the small stream and he sighed happily as the cool water began to rise up his legs. Watching him, Castiel noticed how his freckles really did cover every expanse of his body.

 

Expelling a sigh, Castiel reached for the hem of his shirt and he tugged it off, muttering under his breath about how he was going to regret this, that some strange man in the woods was telling him to strip.

 

From the narrow stream, he heard Dean laughing at him. God, that sound was so strange to his ears. In the city, it was a rare and precious noise. With joy in his heart, Castiel unbuttoned his jeans and tugged them off, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to relieve himself of the briefs that Dean had lent to him. When he looked over at the water, he saw Dean staring at him, shock and surprise in his eyes.

 

Castiel looked down at himself and a hint of shame filled him. He was the best soldier and the best scout in the city, but he had learnt through many mistakes. Canvassing his body was a network of scars – claw wounds. A huge liver colored scar stretched over his shoulder, there was an almost star like shape on his back from when a werewolf had thrown him against one of the cement dividers that had its metal foundation protruding. Those were just a few. Castiel turned around, reaching for his shirt when he heard a splash of water. A cold wet hand encircled his wrist.

 

“No, don’t, I’m sorry I was starin’ at you like some kind of creep. I just hadn’t expected it is all.”

 

Glancing over his scarred shoulder, Castiel stared at Dean expressionless, letting nothing on the surface belie the shame and embarrassment broiling inside of him.

 

“You had to kill those werewolves. Heck, I kill werewolves. When I see the big ones heading closer to your city I ask them to turn back or that I’ll have to kill ‘em. Those werewolves aren’t people anymore.”

 

Castiel gently took his wrist away from Dean’s hand. “And you’re human?”

 

Worrying his lip with an unnaturally sharp canine, Dean hesitated for a moment. “Depends what you mean by human. I’m not trying to kill you, isn’t that enough?” There was something in Dean’s bottle green eyes that made Castiel sigh and turn back to the stream, leaving the shirt behind on the bench. It had almost looked like fear of rejection or abandonment.

 

“Yes, it’s enough.” Castiel murmured quietly as he walked into the cool waters.

 

Dean smiled and followed after him, entering the water beside him. Impala watched them from the shade cast by the cabin before he put his head on his paws and closed his eyes.

 

Castiel hadn’t swum in a long time. There were pools in the city but they were largely for training the soldiers and so this was refreshing. He let himself float, lying on his back as he looked up at the sky. The spot where Dean had touched his wrist tingled.

 

“Hey, Cas,” Dean began, “Do you ever think I could go to your city? I mean, I look human and I know you sometimes get survivors. I’d only want to visit of course.”

 

Castiel righted himself in the water and sent Dean an incredulous look. “You’re kidding right? It’s not that I don’t trust you but do you know what they would do to you if they found out what you were? The council has been looking for a cure, or a disease, to wipe out the werewolves. They’d experiment on you, tear you apart. I know they would because they’ve done it before on countless werewolves, on people who have been bitten but haven’t changed yet. No, it’s not the worth the risk.”

 

Watching Dean, he saw him frown. “Geez, always the little ray of sunshine, huh?”

 

Swimming over to Dean, he laid a hand on his shoulder and he squeezed it as he tilted his head to the side. “It would be a pointless horrible death for you and there is nothing in the city worth seeing.” Castiel smiled faintly as he smoothed his hand closer to Dean’s neck. “None of the experiments ever produced results and you never mentioned a cure. If anyone knew about a way, you would.”

 

Dean nodded, “You’re right, there is no cure. Some of my people in the past went to places of science, seeking to be cured, to be human and it never worked. I’m surprised you didn’t even think I could help you find a cure.”

 

Squeezing Dean’s shoulder, Castiel laughed softly. “I’m a little ray of sunshine, remember?”

 

Dean glanced at his hand on his shoulder and Castiel’s smile slipped from his lips and he pulled his hand away. There was a strange expression on Dean’s face after that, which he couldn’t quite make out.

 

Licking the droplets of water from his lips, Dean rubbed the back of his neck as he kicked in the water to keep himself afloat. “There’s a glow worm cave not too far from here. I don’t know if you can walk very much though with your ankle but…” Dean’s voice trailed off, “I thought you might want to see it.”

 

Castiel bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling. “I’d very much like to go. I’ve never seen glow worms before.”

 

“Great, let’s go then. When it gets dark there are more werewolves around.”

 

Dean climbed out of the stream, naked body glistening with water and Castiel joined him on the grassy bank as they both walked towards the cottage to fetch their towels. It didn’t take them long to get ready, Dean was standing in the open doorway, eyes closed as he raised his face to the warmth of the sun. Castiel smiled at the sight of him. He had never met anyone so carefree, someone who seemed so well suited to the Apocalypse and the fact that there was no one else around. Reaching down to tie his boots, Castiel paused, breath tight in his throat. Everything he was wearing was Dean’s, all that he had left of his old self were the black army issue boots he was pulling on. Slowly, he tied the laces, thinking of the old and worn down barracks that he had lived in. Even though he hadn’t been with Dean long out in the wilderness, the idea of returning to the city was becoming less and less appealing. Out here, it was peaceful, there was plenty of food and fresh drinking water and there wasn’t the crime and corruption to worry about. Out here, it was simpler.

  
Dean called out, “You ready? It’s getting dark; I don’t want us getting caught out there.”

 

Nodding, Castiel stood up and grabbed one of Dean’s spare coats from the door. It was a warm dark blue coat with a fake fur lining that kept his neck warm. “Yes, let’s go.”

 

Dean led the way and this time, Impala followed them. Despite his size, Impala was a silent shadow behind them, watching their backs, scenting the air for any werewolves that might venture too close. Castiel had left his crutch behind. His ankle was sore but he needed to get better soon, he had no idea how long Dean’s hospitality would last.

 

He stared at Dean’s back, his broad shoulders, and remembered the fine lines of his muscles, the sun kissed skin and the dip at the base of his spine. Rubbing his bottom lip between his teeth, Castiel looked up at the tree branches over them.

 

After a little while of walking, Dean stopped and took a sip of water from his canteen and using it, he gestured to a festooned collection of flowering vines that rested against a stonewall. “It’s in there, it’s dark but your eyes will get used to it and the glow worms will light the way too.”

 

Taking a steeling breath, Castiel went to the vines and he waited for Dean to go first. Dean stepped up to the vines and he pushed a hand through them and then held them apart, forming a dark oval in the greenery. “Stay out here, Impala.” The wolf huffed and Castiel could have sworn that he saw him roll his eyes. Dean glared back at the wolf before he turned away and walked into the cave. Castiel followed suit and entered the dark and chilly cave. At first, it was pitch black and he stumbled a step forward, his hands outstretched. To his side, he felt the algae and slime on the stones. Shivering, he blinked rapidly. “Dean?” Suddenly, warm fingers wrapped around his wrist. “Hey, Cas.”

 

Dean pulled him away from the wall and held onto him, leading him deeper into the cave. “Maybe I overestimated human eyes; it’s not even that dark in here.”

 

Letting out a sound of derision, Castiel growled out, “It’s pitch black in here, Dean, I can’t see a thing.” For a moment, a jolt of fear lanced his heart. He had walked into a cave that was pitch black, he could be left behind to die in here, it could be a trap. Shaking his head, he bit the inside of his cheek. What would be the point in Dean healing him and then killing him? And despite his better judgment he did trust him.

 

Laughing, Dean kept on walking, their footsteps loud in the cave. “Relax, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” Castiel’s heart jolted and he parted his lips with a barely audible click but was cut off as Dean spoke again. “We’re here.”

 

Light shone above them. A soft gentle teal that studded the ceiling with lights. Dean’s hand squeezed him as he looked up at the glow worms with awe. There must have been thousands of them, all beautiful and separate from one another.

 

He couldn’t stop staring up at them and only after a minute or so could he tear his gaze away. Dean was watching him and now, thanks to the glowworms, he could see again. Dean was smiling at him and the glow lent an otherworldly hue to his warm eyes.

 

“This is beautiful.” Castiel murmured in awe. Further inside, he could see that there was a pool of still water that acted like a mirror, showing the night sky on its liquid surface. Dean walked to the edge of the water and sat down on a smooth rock. “I’m glad you like it. I’ve always wanted to show it someone. Impala couldn’t care less since he can’t eat anything in here.”

 

Smiling, Castiel joined him on the rock, looking up at the glowworms hanging above them. But the thought that he’d probably never see this place again sobered him and he looked down at his hands clasped together in his lap.

 

“What is it?” Dean asked quietly, his voice echoing off the stonewalls.

 

“I was just thinking that I’d never see this place again, that meeting you and even Impala is all going to seem like a weird dream.” Twisting his hands together, Castiel growled under his breath, “The city is bleak and dead, it’s a skeleton and I feel like a maggot crawling around inside of it, trying to find the last bit of flesh or sinew to eat before I inevitably die along with the rest of the people there. There’s no hope. But here, life seems to be flourishing. These glowworms, your garden, this forest-“

 

Dean raised a hand, eyes hard and cold. “You can’t stay here. I’m sorry.”

 

Standing up from the rock, Castiel shrugged, “Shall we go then? Thank you for showing me this place.” Something ugly was festering in his belly. It seemed so unfair, though he knew it wasn’t Dean’s fault, that his brother had ended the world and now the only ones that could live in it were people like him. Dean couldn’t even being to think of a way to share his Eden.

 

Dean stood up and nodded, “Alright, it’s probably getting dark now anyway.”

 

The walk back through the cave was tense and quiet. Castiel couldn’t bring himself to look at Dean. He was angry, sad, depressed and his throat was tight with all his bottled emotions. He wished Dean had never brought him to this place or to his cottage. He would have been happier believing that the whole world was slowly suffocating and dying.

 

As they reached the entrance, Castiel stopped mid step when a howl boomed through the cave. Dean put a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, pulling him back. “That’s Impala, he says there’s danger out there.”

 

Castiel turned his wide eyes to the entrance of the cave. “He’ll howl again when it’s safe.” Dean murmured softly, “We’re safer towards the back, c’mon.” Turning back, they found their way back to the pond and still Castiel hadn’t said a word. “Look,” Dean began as he scrubbed a hand through his short golden hair, “I’m sorry that came out wrong before. The reason you can’t stay is that the werewolves are fine tuned to track down humans. I’m okay living out here as I’m one of them, they usually leave me alone. If one gets too close, Impala is enough to scare them away. But for you, the werewolves would risk getting past Impala to eat you. They won’t do the same to me. I don’t want to get you killed.”

 

Castiel’s lips parted slightly when he listened to the explanation. “Oh…I jumped to conclusions. So, we really have no choice, I have to go back.”

 

Dean nodded, sighing, “Yeah, ‘fraid so. That’s the way it’s gotta be unless you want to dog chow before the end of the month.”

 

Smiling faintly, Castiel shook his head, “No, I’d rather not.”

 

They sat for a longtime with the air growing colder around them. Impala’s howl that safety was upon them never came. Hugging his arms around himself, Castiel tried to keep himself warm as his breath fogged in front of his lips.

 

Dean was settling on the floor, his coat under him. Apparently, the cold affected him very little. “God damn it Cas, get your ass over here. We can’t have you catching the flu.”

 

Too damn cold to protest, Castiel stood up, teeth chattering as he went and sat by Dean, leaning his side against his. An arm wrapped around him and Dean tugged him even closer, practically dragging him onto his lap. Castiel’s eyebrows rose when he felt the heat radiating off Dean like a furnace. “You are hot.”

 

A bark of laughter left Dean, “Yeah? Well, I didn’t know you swung that way.” He said teasingly.

 

Castiel jabbed him with his elbow, right in the belly and Dean gasped, laughing, “Alright, alright. Try and get some sleep, it’s nighttime out there now, the entrance will be crawling with werewolves but Impala will keep us safe.”

 

 

Castiel put a hand against Dean’s belly and then leaned down so that he rested his head on Dean’s warm and soft lap. “Is this okay? The floor is too damn cold and hard.”

 

At first, Castiel wasn’t sure if Dean heard him but after a moment his voice came, quiet and almost thoughtful. “Yeah, you’re okay.”

 

It didn’t seem as though he was answering his question, it was more like he was saying something to himself. Looking up into the glowworms, part of his view was framed by the silhouette of Dean’s neck and jaw line. Closing his eyes, the image of Dean watching over him with the glowworms lighting them seared itself onto his eyelids.

 

Despite the hard floor and the cold cave, he fell asleep easily. He dreamt of the city, of the mothers’ weeping outside the clinics as they gave their dead babies and children to the incinerators – they looked at him, dirt streaked faces, hollow eyes and gaping mouths. He had always tried to avoid that disposal clinic; child and infant mortality was incredibly high. They were lucky to have children growing up past the age of two years old. In his dream, he kept walking down the street, trying to block out the sounds of despair and loss, until he had finally walked far enough that he didn’t hear it anymore. Turning a corner, he stopped, heart aching with such intensity that it took his breath away. Dean’s cottage stood there in golden light on a bed of green grass, amidst the industrial waste and salvaged steel.

 

Opening his eyes, Castiel woke up, lashes wet and he quickly wiped them away. “Is it morning?” He asked roughly, knowing Dean wouldn’t have slept that night.

 

“Yep,” Dean murmured, “I was just about to wake you. I think Impala will give us the go ahead soon.” As though the wolf had been listening, he gave his howl that bounced down to meet them at the end of the cave. But Dean didn’t move yet; instead, Castiel felt it as he began to stroke through his hair. “You need a haircut. I’m not too bad, I can give you one before you go.”

 

Castiel closed his eyes, remembering the dream and the reality of that infant disposal clinic. It was so much easier to focus on Dean’s gentle hands on him. “I’d like that.” For a little while at least he could look at his hair and remind himself that this hadn’t all been a pleasant dream.

 

Stiffly, he stood up and he held out a hand for Dean, which he took with a grateful nod.

 

They walked out of the cave and into the golden sunlight of morning. Dew clung to the leaves and blades of grass and Dean raised his nose into the air, “It rained quite a bit last night. I love that smell.”

 

Now with the sun shining down at Dean, bathing him in light, Castiel turned away, wishing that this pain in his chest would go away.

 

“C’mon, let’s get back to the cottage.”

 

Looking towards Dean, he saw that he was striding away from him and Castiel quickly stepped forward and reached out, grabbing his wrist. Stopping mid-step, Dean’s smile crumpled like a flower being crushed underfoot. “What’s wrong?”

 

Castiel wondered what the hell he looked like right now, he had never felt such an ache. “I’m considering becoming dog chow.”

 

Eyes widening, Dean shook his head and put a hand over Castiel’s on his wrist. “No-“

 

“Dean,” Castiel bit out, “Last night, you know what I dreamt of? The infant disposal clinics. So many of our children are dying that there’s nowhere else left to bury them. They have row after row of incinerators. At one point, the council considered getting rid of the clinic and disposing of the bodies the same way as everyone else – putting them all into a van and dumping them into the open air so that the werewolves will eat them. But there was a public outcry, so the incinerators are still there. Giving the ashes to their parents is all we can do for them now – we can’t give them doctors or nurses, we can’t give them medicine or food. That’s it, ashes. I’d rather become dog chow **here** than being dog chow in a few years’ time along with a dozen other people.”

 

Dean stared at him and he tugged his hand away. “I don’t want to have you on my conscience.”

 

Castiel put a hand to his forehead as he tipped his head back, trying to contain the tears.

 

“Don’t ask me again.” Dean bit out, “I told you, you can’t stay. Now come on, let’s go and get some breakfast.”

 

As Dean turned his back on him, Castiel followed him, tears beading on his lashes and dripping down his lashes. But his eyes were cold and hard. He was consigned to his fate, there was no escaping it. It wasn’t fair of him to keep asking Dean to have him stay her. It was dangerous for him too. 


	5. Grass

They had been cold and distant. Dean went for long walks, some night he didn’t come back and Impala whined by the cabin, unable to leave Castiel alone. Yet every day, his ankle was getting better, he was walking easier without so much as a twinge of pain.

 

One morning, Dean came back with blood on his hands. Without saying a word he went to the sink and began to scrub them clean. Castiel looked up from the book he had been reading and put it down after inserting a bookmark that was shaped like a dolphin. “What happened? Are you okay?”

 

“Werewolf thought she could gank me so iced the lil’ bitch.”

 

There was an incessant scrubbing sound as Dean used the brush to rub at his skin. Even through the suds he could see the skin breaking, blood bubbling up in lurid red dots. Grabbing Dean’s hand, he took the brush away from him. “You did what you had to do.” Castiel said gently as he put the brush down. “In better news, my ankle is better; I can leave whenever you’re ready to take me back.”

 

Dean looked at him, eyes widening, lips parting. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

 

Clenching his jaw, Castiel nodded, “Yes.” Glancing over at the book on the table, he swallowed hard, “I thought I might have been able to finish ‘Wuthering Heights’ before I left but I don’t think I will.”

 

Dean reached out for him, eyes soft and Castiel wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or if he saw a wetness to Dean’s eyes. “Take the book, I don’t need it. Take as many as you want, maybe something a bit happier than ‘Wuthering Heights’ too. Maybe some of the Roald Dahl books‒ they’re nicer.”

 

The conversation seemed to have calmed Dean down and he looked back at his bloody hands. “I hate having to kill them, I know they can’t help it but I also know they aren’t themselves anymore.”

 

Castiel pressed his lips into a line and he hummed. In his short time here, just under two weeks he had learnt how Dean changed the subject. Even though he knew Dean didn’t want him to stay or that he believed that he couldn’t stay, he wasn’t happy about it. Walking over to a drawer, he got out the first aid kid and he opened it up. Getting out the bottle of antiseptic, he gently began to dab Dean’s hands, cleaning away the dirt and blood with soft passes of his hand.

 

“Maybe before I go I can help you get those solar panels you were talking about. Then you can finally use that television of yours. I’d like to watch a…film…” Castiel had no idea what one really was, he had seen the discs that supposedly held them but they didn’t have such entertainment back in the city. “With you.” Castiel finished with a smile.

 

Dean nodded and drew a shaky breath, “Okay, let’s do that.” Slowly, Dean reached out and put two hands on Castiel’s cheeks, his fingers smoothing over his hair. “Oh god damn it Castiel I’m going to miss you. I wish I wouldn’t, but I will.”

 

“You still owe me a haircut.” Castiel deadpanned in response and after a moment, he smiled slightly, “I’ll miss you too. I’ll even miss Impala.”

 

Smiling, Dean rubbed the back of his neck as a faint blush colored his cheeks. “Thank you. C’mon, let’s go before this gets anymore weird or depressing.”

 

Putting on their boots, they headed out into the warmth. They were both wearing jeans and light t-shirts and Dean had put on a shirt that had the golden Chevrolet tie on the front. Dean led the way for them, winding through the forest with Impala following them. Taking a deep breath, Castiel looked around at what would be his last trip before the final one that would take him away from here.

 

Walking beside Dean, Castiel was content with the silence before Dean began to speak. “Okay, so, what’s your favorite color?”

 

Castiel answered without hesitation. “Green.”

 

Absorbing the information, Dean hummed, “Okay, what’s your favorite thing to eat?”

 

Castiel shook his head, smiling, “What are you doing, Dean?”

 

Shrugging, he leant down as he walked and scooped up a twig and he began to snap little bits off it. “I don’t know; I just want to know more about you.”

 

That was completely pointless, Castiel thought with a frown, when he leaving so soon. “I liked the burger you made me a few days ago. The bacon on it and tomatoes were very pleasant. You answer your own questions.”

 

Dean nodded, “Blue and pies.”

 

During the journey to the farmhouse with the solar panels, he learnt more about Dean than he knew about any other person. It had eventually become a quick fire game, short questions with one or two word answers. He learnt that Dean liked listening to music whereas he liked silence, Dean was an ‘Aquarius’ and he was a ‘Virgo,’ Dean liked Summer and he liked Autumn.

 

“So, which way do you swing?” Dean asked nonchalantly as he stared at the small remainder of his stick.

 

Tilting his head to the side, Castiel narrowed his eyes slightly. “I don’t understand…”

 

“I mean, who do you like? Girls, boys, Impala?”

 

His lips formed a circle as it dawned on him what Dean meant. “Oh.”

 

Dean waved him off, “It’s ok, you don’t have to say. If I got too personal-“

 

“No,” Castiel cut in, “As you put it, I like boys. You?”

 

Dean laughed, stroking Impala’s side, “Sorry, boy, he didn’t pick you as one of the options.” Impala just huffed with a flaring of nostrils and looked back to the path ahead. Absentmindedly stroking Impala’s silken fur, Dean took a breath, “Boys and girls. Ain’t that convenient?” Dean said, grinning from ear to ear.

 

“I suppose.” Once again, he was struck with the futility of it. So what if they both liked men? He was leaving soon; he would never see Dean again. Pointing ahead, he saw a farmhouse that was surrounded by broken fences and empty water troughs. He imagined horses and cows in those fields but now the grass and weeds were growing so tall that they towered over them. “That’s it? Where are the solar panels?”

 

Taking the lead again, Dean walked up the path to the house and Castiel followed him. Birds were singing and running along the fences and they were jumping to the roof before flying off with lyrical calls. Right at the front door were several boxes all wrapped up in plastic sheets. One of the boxes even had a box cutter next to it. There were signs like this all over the country, that the Apocalypse must have come so fast and suddenly that people literally had to drop what they were doing to run.

 

“We only need the one box. I think we can manage it.”

 

Going to either ends of the box, Dean and Castiel looked at each other across the cardboard and expanse and then with a nod picked it up. Castiel grunted, muscles straining but he could see the ease with which Dean lifted it. Being a descendant of Romulus and Remus seemed to have its advantages. Dean took most of the weight and they walked down the path again. The birds were without fear, having never seen humans in years and years. They tweeted and flew around them, skittering across the path and watching them curiously as they took the box.

 

Impala waited patiently as they began to journey back with the solar panels.

 

When they were at the halfway point, Dean called for a break and Castiel gratefully sighed and gently put the box down. Sweat was dripping down him and he leant his back against a tree as he wiped at the perspiration beading on his brow. “You really know how to show someone a good time just before they leave.” Castiel deadpanned as he tried to catch his breath.

 

Dean clapped a hand on his shoulder, “I had to make you useful somehow.” Something changed in the air, neither of them moved. Castiel was breathing heavily from the exertion of moving the box, his face was red and sweaty but the way Dean was looking at him looked almost like desire. Dean’s hand tightened on his shoulder, his boot moved across the ground as he put his leg between Castiel’s. Swallowing hard, Castiel watched Dean, not moving. Carefully, Dean leant in, head tilting to the side slightly.

 

Howls broke the air.

 

Dean pulled back, muscles tense, eyes alert as he spun around to see two werewolves staring at them. Impala growled, mane and spine fluffed up as he put himself between them. The werewolves were horribly disfigured. One was walking on all fours but its elbows and knees seemed to move the wrong way and its legs were far too long for its body, almost as though it was a spider. The other werewolves’ face was very nearly gone, replaced with a huge maw of serrated teeth that reminded Castiel of a lamprey.

 

 

Dean looked fearful, jade eyes alight as the wolf inside of him bubbled to the surface. “Cas, stay back. Damn it, I should have given you your gun back for this trip.”

 

But it was midday, the safest time and they had Impala with them, these werewolves’ must either be extremely strong or simply mad.

 

Impala snapped at the larger bipedal werewolf but it dodged narrowly, two slits at the top of its head acting as sensitive scent glands. The other spider like werewolf skittered around Impala, heading towards them. Its snout was elongated like a crocodile and saliva dripped from between its crooked teeth. Dean growled, a sound the same as a bark escaping him in a loud boom. Dean’s muscles seemed to ripple under his shirt, growing somehow larger. The werewolf hesitated. “Back off, ugly.”

 

From under his shirt, Castiel got out his knife, watching the werewolf warily. This thing was fast, he had never seen anything like it but he’d do his damndest to kill the beast.

 

Impala howled with pain as the werewolf bit into his neck, claws holding onto his muzzle to keep it from biting him. Dean snarled with anger and he launched himself at his opponent. His hands were splayed, fingernails turned into long claws as he went for the werewolf’s eyes. The werewolf ducked, then leapt up but Dean was faster, narrowly stepping backward as the jaws snapped only an inch from his throat.

 

Taking the other side of the werewolf, Castiel spun the knife in his hand. He stared at it, examining the muscles and the way it moved. It seemed to move in a circle, almost as though it was guarding some kind of weak point. “Cas!” Dean shouted, “What the hell are you doing?”

 

“I’m going to help you kill a werewolf, Dean Winchester.” He’d been killing werewolves since he was ten and although he had only a knife, he also had Dean with him. The werewolf spun to face him and it snapped at his legs, getting in close. Sidestepping, Castiel brought the knife down hard and stabbed it, knife sinking deep into the werewolf’s neck. Jerking it out, the werewolf whimpered softly but soon began to growl.

 

Behind him he could hear Impala fighting with the other werewolf.

 

“Dean, it’s guarding some kind of-“ He gasped, diving to the grass as the werewolf swiped at him, rearing up onto its hind legs. But there, from down on the grass he saw its weak point. Its belly was nothing more than a clear membrane, he could see inside of it, its organs and heart pulsing like a witches’ cauldron containing an obscene and vile concoction.

 

“Its belly!”

 

Dean nodded. Stepping up to the werewolf, he grabbed its short, almost naked tail. Snarling, Dean dragged it towards him and the werewolf scrabbled across the ground as it tried to free itself. But Dean’s strength was relentless, he barked and gnashed his teeth together as he leaned over the werewolf and pushed his fingers into the cut that Castiel had made with the knife. There was a squelching sound as blood and flesh was squeezed from the hole, pouring out over Dean’s wrist as he physically held the creature from the inside. Dean looked feral, bestial but Castiel wasn’t scared, he could still see **him** in his eyes. “Kill it!”

 

Castiel nodded, he ran up the beast, dodging under its long clawed arms and fell to his knees, sliding along the slick grass as he raised the knife, cutting straight through the thin membrane. In the wake of his side, guts and blood poured out in a putrefied mess and the werewolf howled as it died.

 

Finally, Dean let go of it and Castiel rolled up onto his feet, wiping his knife against the werewolf’s fur. As they looked up, Impala had the other werewolf pinned and with a final bite, he bit the werewolf’s neck with an audible crack.

 

Impala trotted over to them, tongue lolling out as he panted. Dean smiled up at him and stroked his clean hand across his muzzle. “We’re okay, boy. You did a great job.”

 

Castiel took a deep breath, pressing a hand against his heart. “Thank you, Impala.” The wolf stared at him for a moment, expression serious before he wagged his tail and gently prodded his shoulder with his snout.

 

Sheathing his knife, Castiel stroked over his muzzle.

 

Dean blew out a whistle, “I never expected that. Impala must be going funny in his old age.” Laughing, Dean bent down and tried his best to wipe the blood off his hand. Now, Dean had returned to his normal size, the light in his eyes had dimmed down and his fingernails were blunt once more.

 

“You were good too, Castiel. I never thought humans would be so good at taking down werewolves.”

 

With a huff, Castiel rolled his eyes, “Years of practice, I’m afraid.” But now that that they were safe again, his mind wandered to what they had been about to do. It seemed as though Dean had been about to kiss him. Castiel smiled and to hide it he hid his face in Impala’s soft black fur. The werewolf grunted but didn’t otherwise move as Castiel kept on stroking him.

 

Dean watched them with a fond smile, hands tucked into his pockets. “Let’s get the panels back and install them. It shouldn’t take too long and then tonight, we can watch Clint Eastwood taking down bad guys.”

 

After that, taking the solar panels went without a hitch. Dean washed his hands and then they set about installing them on the roof. Dean seemed to have a talent for technology: one glance at the instruction manual and he seemed to have it all figured out. In a few hours, as the sun was setting, they were done. Dean didn’t bother with using the ladder like Castiel had to; he simply jumped down from the roof and rushed inside, a goofy excited grin on his face. “I might actually have **electric** lights!” Climbing down from the ladder, Castiel smiled and he followed him in.

 

He was waiting for him, index finger on the light switch and then with an intake of breath, he turned on the lights. The bulbs flickered and then, they were on, glowing warmly above them in the antler chandelier Dean had made. “It worked!” Dean exclaimed as he rushed forward, scooping Castiel into a hug. He squeezed him tight and spun him around, laughing happily and Castiel put his arms around his neck, laughing with him. Putting him down, Dean stroked his cheek. “Got some peach fuzz too. You need a shave. But first, Clint.”

 

Walking over to a cupboard, Dean got out jerky, a few bottles of beer, licorice and some other snacks that had proved Apocalypse durable. Dumping his stash onto the table, Dean walked over to the table and turned it on. ‘High Plains Drifter’ was already in the DVD player and he turned it on, watching with satisfaction as green letters flitted across the screen, telling him ‘Welcome’.

 

Sitting himself down, Dean patted the space on the couch next to him. He was practically vibrating with excitement. “C’mon, sit down. It’s starting.” The haunting introduction music began with Clint Eastwood riding through a desert haze with the title credits emblazoned in red next to him.

 

Seating himself next to Dean, he was passed a bottle and handful of jerky. Leaning back, Castiel watched, enraptured with the scenes that played out before him. The frontier mining town reminded him of the city, it was a brutal place full of corruption and violence and even the drifter was as harsh and as unsettling as the place. Yet he was good too, he saved people, he saved the town that had strange brown plants skipping across the dusty streets. He had never seen such a dry place in his life. Next to him, Dean’s eyes were glued to the screen, he whooped with glee when the drifter made a perfect shot, at his smooth one liners, and when he rescued the town in the end.

 

Sipping from his beer, Castiel watched the final credits play.

 

“Holy shit, that was amazing. I’m gonna have to find way more DVDs.” Getting up, Dean popped in the live Led Zeppelin concert DVD but instead of watching it, he turned to look at Castiel. Without looking, he put his beer back on the table and he put his elbow on the back of the couch.

 

Castiel licked his lips, tasted beer and jerky on them.

 

“I’m gonna really miss you. I never thought I would grow so attached to someone so quickly.” Dean brushed his hand through his hair and Castiel kept still, anticipation making his mouth dry.

 

“You’re stubborn, moody, hell of a good fighter but you’re kind too. I can see how gentle you are in your hands. I don’t want you to go either, not really.”

 

“The best that we can do,” Castiel began slowly, “Is give ourselves something to remember each other by.”

 

Dean smiled softly at him as he put a hand on the back of his neck, thumb stroking the long wisps of hair at the nape. “I haven’t heard a lot of pick up lines in my time but I’m still pretty sure that’s a lame one.”

 

Humming, Castiel leaned in. It didn’t matter if he never saw Dean again after tomorrow, he just wanted to kiss him and feel those soft warm lips against his own. Tugging him closer by the back of his neck, Dean brought him in for a kiss. Castiel held his breath, was stiff for a moment before he relaxed into it. They were silent as Led Zeppelin and the crowd cheered from the television speakers. Putting a hand on Dean’s chest, his fingers curled in his shirt and he moaned into the kiss, tilting his head to the side as he deepened it.

 

The kiss was over too quickly and Castiel’s eyes fluttered open so that he could gaze into Dean’s own glazed stare. “Bad pick up line, good kiss.” Dean murmured breathlessly with a smile.

 

Licking his lips, Dean put a hand over his own and his brow corrugated, corners of his eyes creasing. “I really wish we could have known each other for longer. I really like you Castiel.”

 

Castiel’s breath caught in his throat. Dean had saved a complete stranger, a man who may have thought he was a monster and tried to kill him and yet he had taken the risk and had treated him tenderly and affectionately. No one had ever done that for him. People weren’t like him back in the city; not Michael, Raphael, Lucifer, Rachel…no one.

 

“I like you too, Dean.”

 

Dean moved slightly, only far enough away to grab the remote and turn off the television. Then, with his hand still on the back of his neck he dragged him down on top of him. It was a tight squeeze on the couch but with his head on Dean’s chest and his legs curled over Dean’s own he was comfortable and there was nowhere he’d rather be. The relationship was fast, perhaps had come too fast but it felt good and what else mattered? “I’ll never forget you, Dean.”

 

Dean stroked his hair and he heard him swallow. “I’ll never forget you either. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow, you should try and get some sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

 

Castiel closed his eyes with the rhythm of Dean’s heartbeat under his ear. The wind was howling outside, Dean was warm but he didn’t get much sleep after all.

 


	6. City

They woke early, just as the sun was rising. Castiel thought back to his first morning when he had woken up in Dean’s bed, how surreal it had seemed to have seen the trees and the grass surrounding him instead of rust and concrete. Dean had packed him a huge pack of supplies, even some seeds for the ailing farms back in the city. It didn’t help the crops that they were by the ocean.

 

The pack was full of food, books, posters (Castiel had admitted his room was blank and plain) and equipment such as torches, batteries, a multi-head screwdriver and a Swiss army knife. Then, finally, Dean gave back the bullets he had taken from Castiel in a small wooden box. Castiel traced his fingers over the intricate work on the lid. “Did you make this?” There was a wolf and a man standing in front of a row of trees.

 

“Yeah,” Dean said sheepishly, “I want to you to keep it.”

 

Castiel sighed, “I wish there was something I could give you in return.”

 

Shrugging, Dean picked up his pack‒ he insisted on carrying it. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

Dean walked to the door and held it open; the early morning sun streamed in pink and purple. Moving towards Dean, Castiel stopped and he turned to take one last look of the cabin. The tap in the kitchen was dripping (Dean would have to fix that when he got back), there were dirty plates in the sink from their breakfast, there was a car magazine left half open, Dean’s bed had been neatly made and the blanket that they had used on the couch had fallen to the floor in a crumpled heap. The television, the couch, the elegantly crafted table and two chairs and candelabra were all Dean’s fingerprint on the charming cabin. Rubbing at his eyes, he gripped the barrel of his rifle. “Goodbye,” He murmured to the empty rooms before he turned on his heel and quickly walked out.

 

Impala joined them at the door and he led the way back through the forest. Once again he was in his clothes from the city. Black army issue boots, dark camo trousers, a tight gray shirt and an oversized jacket with one too many pockets. Now, after wearing Dean’s soft and comfortable clothes, he felt stiff and cold again.

 

The forest was warm and pleasant, with insects buzzing around and birds chasing them. Impala stopped when he spotted a fox and its bushy tail raised in alarm before it scampered away. Continuing on, Dean stayed close to him, close enough that their shoulders bumped every now and again.

 

“I’m sorry that I pushed you into trying to let me stay. It wasn’t fair. I enjoyed my time here a lot; I wouldn’t trade that for the world.”

 

Dean smiled at him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, squeezing him tight. “I’m sorry I was a dick in how I said no and I loved having you with me. I wish you could stay, Cas, I really do.”

 

Castiel bit his bottom lip. “You said you wanted to see the city. Why don’t you come with me and see some of it? At least the edges. The security isn’t tight around there and we can walk the perimeter and make it to the ocean and the farms.”

 

Immediately, he saw the excitement in Dean’s eyes. “Hell yeah Cas, I’ll come with you.”

 

“Good,” Castiel murmured, they could put off their goodbye for a little while longer then. “But Impala wouldn’t be able to follow us obviously; we’ll be within the perimeter of the city, on the outskirts sure, but there’s a good chance someone would spot a giant wolf. I’ll keep you safe though and you won’t be there long. I give you my word.”

 

Squeezing him again, Dean chuckled, “You worry too much. We’ll be fine and getting inside and seeing the edge is all that I could hope for. Thank you.”

 

“It’s the least I could do,” Castiel mumbled with a blush.

 

The walk took hours but eventually, the trees began to thin out and the signs of the city began to spring up. The cement paths of the highways began to appear as did the gutted husks of cars. Yet, as soon as the trees stopped, the great shadow of the city towered over them.

 

As Dean looked up at the great gray behemoth that straddled the looping circuits of the highway, Cas saw him shiver. Licking over his lips, Dean put a hand on Impala before he spoke to Cas. “I’ve seen it from far away but never this close.”

 

Castiel’s laugh was bitter and jagged, glass rattling in a tin can. “Like I said, it’s not the kind of place you’d want to live or visit. If you want, I can make it on my own from here. I’m close enough and I’ve got my gun. I’ll be fine.”

 

Shaking his head, Dean smirked at Castiel, “Don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily, Cas. I wanna see inside and I want to see the gardens and the ocean. I also think I saw some planes when I got a little too close one time.”

 

Nodding, Castiel led the way up the highway, passing a rusted sign where the letters were too faded to tell them where they were going. “We’ve got a few 747 jumbo jets. At first people thought we could fly them, see if there were any other safe havens but that idea soon died out and we stripped them for parts instead. They take too much fuel.”

 

Interlacing his fingers together at the back of his neck, Dean walked with his gaze fixed on the city. “I wonder what it was like to fly on one of those. It must have been terrifying.”

 

Ever since he was a child he had dreamt of flying, of being above all of the pain and horror, sitting in the white clouds and blue sky. “I think it would have been wonderful, liberating.”

 

Dean shrugged, smiling softly as they got closer and closer to the city. Now the empty skeletons of the stripped cars surrounded them as they walked up the cement. Dean looked at the cars curiously but none of them even had their doors left; it had all gone to building the walls.

 

Turning, Dean stroked Impala’s nose. “Okay, buddy, time for you to go and hideout in the forest. If you come any closer they’ll see you.” Impala whined and pushed his snout further through Dean’s hands so that his nose was resting against his shirt. Sighing, he pushed Impala away. “Go on, I’ll be a day, maybe two and then we’re going home. Go find a deer or a boar to eat, have fun, I’ll be fine; I’ve got Cas with me.”

 

Impala turned his green eyes on him and stared at him, then with one final whine he turned around and trotted back down the highway, jumping over a few of the cars as he headed toward the forest.

 

Dean and Castiel walked on their own, towards the city that grew larger and larger as they got closer. “When we get to the gate there will only be one guard. I’ll know them so I’ll get them to let us in. Don’t say anything. I’ll handle it.”

 

Eventually, they were at the wall and when he looked across at Dean he looked pale and withdrawn, like it was dawning on him just how dangerous this actually was. The walls had several doors and the one that Castiel picked towards the left side was the least well defended.

 

Knocking on the door, he cleared his throat. “Open the door, it’s Castiel.”

 

“Castiel!?”

 

The door swung open quickly and Dean took a step back, a faint growl burbling in his throat but he coughed when Castiel elbowed him in the belly. “Ion? You got back safely then.”

 

Ion stared at him in complete disbelief, coupled with horror. “I thought you were dead. How the hell did you survive?”

 

Gesturing to Dean, Castiel took him by the shoulder and tugged him forwards. “This man helped me. He’s been surviving in the basement of that farmhouse we went to. He had a shotgun, killed the werewolf and saved me. It took time to recover, but now here I am. In return, I brought him to the city.”

 

Blowing out a whistle, Ion smiled and reached out to take Dean’s hand. Immediately, Dean withdrew, glaring at Ion. For a moment Dean’s eyes flared, his hands began to twist as his fingernails elongated into claws. Taking s step back, Ion’s face was ashen.

 

Pushing past Ion, Castiel walked in and he grabbed Dean’s wrist, pulling him in after him. “He’s a little strange after spending so much time in a cellar. I’m going to give him a tour around the city. I’ll talk to you later Ion.”

 

Ion nodded, “O-oh okay!”

 

The city outskirts were quiet as they tended to be. Walking slowly, he didn’t let go of Dean as he soaked in the sights. Huge blocks of cement towered above them and those composed the centre of the city. The council and other important residents such as doctors and surgeons lived there. The farther away the buildings were, the less important they were. The building for the barracks, where Castiel had lived most of his life was made out of a combination of cement welded metal. He was lucky compared to most. Out there, on the outskirts the structures were empty cars welded together, creating tiny rooms for people to sleep in.

 

Dean stopped and stared as he watched three children sitting in the middle of the street, rolling a ball of electrical wire between them. They were smiling but quiet as they rolled it back and forth. “Does this all disappoint you Dean?” Castiel asked quietly as he let go of his wrist and walked behind him, putting his chin on his shoulder and his hands on his hips. Squeezing his hips lightly he let out a sigh. “Some people are happy here. I’ve been happy here for a long time.” It was true, it was just that now Dean had shown him better his eyes were open to this desolate concrete wasteland.

 

“Fuck, I thought ending the world was bad enough but…” Dean’s voice shook and he curled in on himself, “I thought that at least humanity had survived somehow but this is…this is a graveyard. You’re all just waiting to die and there’s nothing anyone can do.” Castiel squeezed Dean tighter and he hesitated for a moment before kissing the soft spot behind Dean’s ear. “This isn’t your fault, not your brother’s either. It was Ruby for passing on the bite. From what you told me about your people, passing on the bite is sacred, she should never have betrayed your brother.”

 

Against him, Dean was shaking, little gasps and plaintive moans escaping him. He didn’t have to see his face to know he was crying. “I’m sorry I brought you here.” Guilt twisted inside of him. Had he ruined Dean’s happiness?

 

“No,” Dean whispered, “I’m glad I saw it. I don’t deserve to live in ignorant bliss.”

 

“Dean…” Castiel licked his lips and his hands wandered over his shirt so that they rested against his belly. Pulling him in tighter, he squeezed him as tight as he could. “Please don’t blame yourself for Ruby’s actions. It was your brother’s choice and her choice, this has nothing to do with you. It’s not blame that falls on you.”

 

Dean nodded simply and then took a step forward, letting Cas’ hands slide off him. “Alright, let’s go see the ocean. I can’t leave Impala for too long.” Carefully, ever so slowly and with his shoulders tight that betrayed his trepidation Dean reached out and took his hand.

 

Their fingers interlaced and Castiel’s heart ached for it. They belonged in two different worlds.

 

They continued walking through the outskirts of the city, occasionally having to take long walks around parts of the wall that had fallen down but had been repaired, yet no one had bothered to take the obsolete part away. “Maybe we can visit each other, once a year or something. That would be nice.” Squeezing his hand, Castiel smiled, “What do you think?”

 

When he felt Dean squeeze him back, he already knew his answer. “I think that’s a great idea. Let’s do it. We can meet at the farmhouse where we first met. I’ll make sure it’s safe for you. I’ll clear the road and have Impala mark his territory around there. I hope you don’t mind the smell of wolf piss.”

 

Shrugging, Castiel pushed through a door in the wall. “If I did, I wouldn’t have kissed you.”

 

A bark of laughter escaped Dean. “Geez Cas, I never said anything about your morning breath.”

 

Castiel elbowed him in the side as they walked through the corridor that led to the ocean and farms. Already, the smell of salt on the air was thick. They could hear the cries of seagulls in the air through the metal box they were walking through.

 

The final door opened and they walked out into the sun. Here, it was almost easy to try and forget the Apocalypse had happened. There was tilled soil, the sound of the ocean waves crashing, and the sun poured down on them as there were no tall buildings around. There were only the walls that hugged the space, protecting them from the werewolves.

 

Leading Dean through the farms, they passed the workers in their dirtied overalls as the picked out carrots and onions, plucked tomatoes from the vines and apples from tree branches. Insects buzzed in the air and birds flitted around them.

 

To the left were the commercial airliners but festooned over them was flowering ivy. “Damn, Cas, why don’t you live out here? Get one of the airliners as your home; this is so much better.”

 

“It’s not as safe for one thing, the planes are hardly impenetrable and the walls are lower so we can get more sunlight onto the plants. But, I do come out here a lot. It’s beautiful.” Not only that, but his rifle was always slung over his shoulder.

 

Following the dirt path, they kept walking to the ocean. They had constructed docks made of wood and had lines and lines of fishing nets. Dean smiled and he let go of his hand, walking quicker. “I’ve never been to the ocean; it was always too close to you guys.” Ripping off his boots, Dean wobbled on one foot, eager to get onto the sand with his bare feet.

 

Chuckling, Castiel crossed his arms over his head. “What are you doing?”

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m going to have a freakin’ paddle. If it wasn’t for those nets I’d have a swim.” Reaching down, he rolled up the bottoms of his jeans and he stepped out onto the sand. The joy that lit up Dean’s face took his breath away; his eyes were warm as he spread his toes and curled them, letting the grains of sand push between the gaps. Watching, Dean he saw him walk towards the ocean and then finally step in. The gentle ebb washed up against his ankles and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

 

Unable to resist, Castiel hurriedly took off his own boots and tucked up his trousers and then made his way to Dean’s side. He watched the side of Dean’s face as he stepped into the water beside him.

 

“It’s beautiful. The smells, the sight of it and having you here with me.” Once more, but with conviction this time, Dean took and held his hand. They stood in the water and Dean opened his eyes again so that they both looked out at the same horizon. The sun was sinking lower and lower, the day was coming to an end.

 

But neither of them said or word or moved.

 

Turning towards him, Dean leant down ever so slightly and kissed him again, licking over the seam of his mouth before he pushed his tongue past his lips. Castiel moaned at the sweet tenderness of the kiss, toes curling in the wet sand.

 

“Cas, maybe I can give you the-“

 

There was a shout.

 

Turning, Ion was staring at them with three other soldiers, all with their rifles pointed at them. “That thing you have with you Castiel isn’t human. He’s…he must be a werewolf. I saw it with my own eyes at the gate and you brought him right in!”

 

Castiel’s stomach plummeted and he let go of Dean, stepping out of the water as the guns were raised.

 

“Don’t give me some bullshit about how he’s just crazy from being in a cellar. I’ve been to that farmhouse before, I know that there isn’t a cellar. I also saw him change.” Ion began to smile, a wide split in his face. “This thing is different somehow; he’s more human than werewolf. He holds the key. I reported it to the council, and they want to bring him to the laboratory for testing,”

 

Castiel’s blood became ice, his throat was dry with fear and apprehension and behind him he could feel Dean’s own fear and anger.

 

“I know,” Castiel began. “That’s why I brought him here. I had to earn his trust, he wouldn’t have come with me otherwise.”

 

“Cas?” Dean asked, voice soft and scared behind him.

 

Ignoring him, Castiel continued. “He’ll listen to me. I’ll escort him to the laboratory. This is the break that we’ve been searching for.” He had no idea what he was doing, his mouth was moving of its own accord. “Somewhere in his body, there’ll be the cure. We’ll start as usual, with blood and hair samples and continue on from there to the more invasive samples and tests.”

 

Suddenly, there was a growl and Castiel felt a hard impact from behind. Falling face first, he put his hands out onto the sand, barely stopping his face from colliding with the compact surface.

 

“I trusted you!” Dean howled as he grabbed him by the shoulder, flipping him over. When he did, Castiel’s heart split in two. Tears were swimming in his eyes. “I trusted you, you bastard!” Castiel put a hand around Dean’s and squeezed it.

 

Suddenly, the tears that Dean had been holding back began to flow down his freckled cheeks.

 

In the corner of his eye, Castiel could see the muzzle of a rifle. “Lower your weapons.” He snapped, “He’s not going to try anything else. Are you Dean?”

 

Dean’s hands on him were shaking and a whimper like the ones that Impala made pushed past his lips. One of the guards grabbed Dean by the shoulder and yanked him off him.

 

Nausea was battling at the back of Castiel’s throat as he quickly put on his shoes and socks again and he grabbed Dean’s, putting them in front of him so he could slip them on.

 

Damn it, bringing Dean had been a mistake. He hadn’t thought that Ion had seen anything. He had been so god damned stupid and he only hoped that he could get Dean out, that Dean still **trusted** him enough to let him help.

 

The march back to the inner circle of the city was tense. His jaw was tight as he saw the way the guards held Dean, one on either side of him as another at his own side had his automatic rifle trained on his back.

 

They herded Dean to one of the central buildings and pushed him inside. It was dark, full of strange noises and smells. The stairs took them up to the top level and throughout it all he could see how terrified Dean was. He had told him about what they did the werewolves that they captured; that they tore them apart, examining every scrap of flesh, blood and bone to see if that could possibly held the key to humanity’s survival. It was all so pointless.

 

The room they were led to was white, sterile and Dean growled again, muscles shifting. “Ah!” Reaching out, Castiel put a hand on his shoulder. “Trust me Dean.” When Ion looked at him, confusion in his eyes, Castiel added, “This is for the best.”

 

In front of them was a metal table with metal cuffs attached to it. All reinforced to hold even the strongest werewolf. The only other person in the room was a doctor and he smiled genially at them with bleached white teeth. “Hello, this is the specimen?”

 

Castiel’s blood boiled but he nodded, “Yes.”

 

Dean sat on the edge of the table, noting the holes dotted into the reflective metal surface. “Lie down, I’ll give you something to numb the pain, you’ll go to sleep and never feel a thing.” The doctor grinned at Dean, “How does that sound?”

 

“I think you can go fuck yourself.” Dean snapped with a hint of an animalistic growl. His fist flew at the doctor, striking him in the face and the man staggered back with a screech as blood spurted from his nose. The soldiers leapt on Dean all at once, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him down onto the table.

 

“No! Don’t! No!”

 

Castiel stood motionless, throat tight as he watched them overpower Dean and strap him down with four definitive clicks as the cuffs were secured in place. Howling, Dean struggled against his restraints, back arching off the table, teeth gnashing together.

 

The doctor stood up, holding his nose. “Go, I only need one of you.”

 

Castiel nodded, “As the superior officer I’ll stay, I was also the one to catch him, I can provide you with some information.”

 

The doctor nodded as he grabbed a tissue, wiping at his nose, “Good, good.”

 

The other soldiers filed out the room but Ion tarried, looking wary. “Are you sure?”

 

Castiel huffed, “He’s going to be drugged soon and he’s more human than werewolf, I can handle him. Now go, I saw some holes in the wall that need tending to.” For a moment Ion narrowed his eyes, hands tightening on his gun but after a few tense seconds, he nodded and left.

 

The room went quiet then, with just the three of them in the room. When he looked at Dean, he turned to face him, head lolling on the table. As the doctor turned around to get the syringe, he smiled and nodded at him as tears threatened to fill his eyes.

 

Whatever Dean saw in him, he closed his eyes as the syringe punctured his skin and the drug was poured into his veins. A small gasp rattled in Dean’s throat before his eyelashes fluttered, before finally closing.

 

Castiel’s rifle was still slung over his shoulder and he reached for the handle to hold it tight in a nervous tell. It was getting dark outside, and that meant that there would be no one else in this building; every soldier at night was ordered to patrol the wall. This was his best chance to save Dean before anything bad happened. But he would have to wait; the darker it was the better their chances were.

 

The doctor took a chair and rolled it up to the table. At his side was a table full of medical instruments. Sharp, jagged, long, thin – they all appalled him. The doctor found another syringe and he inserted it into Dean’s arm, taking his blood in a vial. It quickly filled, bubbles percolating against the inside until it was full.

 

After that, he began to take other samples, cutting Dean’s skin with a scalpel, plucking his hair, taking saliva samples.  Soon, the doctor was putting monitoring equipment on Dean, where wires and sticky tabs tattooed his body in an industrial mess. Castiel kept glancing at his watch, seeing how an hour was nearly up. Just a few minutes more.

 

The doctor pulled out a long needle and he looked across at Castiel. “He’s still fast asleep, so I think I can do the marrow extraction now. I need you to undo the cuffs and roll him onto his side.”

 

Castiel’s heart leapt a beat, but he did as he was told. Yet he did it slowly, going to each one of the cuffs with a mechanical stiffness. Carefully, he rolled Dean into position and pulled up his shirt and tugged his trousers down a little, so that the doctor could prepare the area on his hip with a reeking brown fluid. “Okay,” The doctor murmured, “Here we go,” the needle lowered, Dean’s skin turned white as the metal pressed hard against his skin. Castiel made his move by lunging over the table.

 

Grabbing the doctor by his collar, he quickly brought his head down, smashing his temple against the edge of the table. The doctor gasped with pain and slumped to the floor, a puppet with its strings cut. Circling table, he observed that was out cold, the syringe lying uselessly in his lax grip.

 

Going over to the table, he grabbed Dean by the shoulders and rolled him onto his back. There was only a faint movement of his chest, there was no rousing of his muscles, no flicker of his eyelids. Shaking him slightly, Castiel stared at him imploringly. “Dean? Damn it, how much did they give you?”

 

Giving up on waking him, Castiel grabbed Dean and put him on his shoulder, grunting at the weight. Holding onto his legs he walked out of the room and headed down the stairs, taking them slowly. Every muscle ached and burned by the time he got to the bottom of the stairs and when he finally took his first step outside it was pitch black. Electricity was hard to come by; the streets were never lit.

 

Picking his way through the ramshackle mess of the city, he made his way to the wall. From there, he’d find the easiest way out. Around him he could hear the city going to sleep. A shout to his left, a light flickering off and even a gunshot from somewhere high above him. They were normal sounds, or so he hoped. But he hurried, Dean’s feet dragging uselessly against the cracked cement ground.

 

Finally, with a groan Dean began to move. “Dean.” Castiel whispered as he strode through the inky shadows, “Be quiet and stay still, we’re getting out of here.”

 

“Cas?” Dean’s voice was thick with sleep and he slurred as he spoke next, “You really are saving me then.”

 

“Of course.” The idea of leaving him to be experimented on, to be killed in a horrible and slow death hadn’t even crossed his mind. He’d never be able to come back to the city but that didn’t bother him. He’d find somewhere else to live, find a house and reinforce it, maybe somewhere within a day of Dean’s cottage. That would all come later. For now, he had to concentrate on getting out alive.

 

Dean shifted again and Castiel gasped, going down hard onto one knee. “M-sorry,” Dean mumbled again, “I think I can walk.”

 

Carefully, Dean managed to stand but he wobbled and swayed. Pushing himself back onto his feet again, Castiel wrapped an arm around his waist and held him tight. Dean was warm and solid against him, safe for now. With his free hand, he unslung his rifle and tucked it between his arm and his body with a finger resting against the trigger. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, yet he may not have a choice.

 

Finally, they came to the wall and Castiel sighed in gratitude. “I think there’s a door out not too far from here and the way out is a ramp, the forest will be nearby. Hopefully Impala will find us.”

 

Walking slowly, he finally saw the door. In his ear, Dean was panting with exertion. Yet at the door was Ion with his gun resting in his hands and another soldier in tattered riot gear. Ion was a good shot, one of the best; Cas had trained him personally.

 

“Shit,” He bit out as he tried to think of other options. But there wasn’t. When he glanced at Dean, his eyes were glowing, the reflective backs of his eyes catching the faint light.

 

“We can take him.” Dean growled, “I saw him leave you for dead. He ran, that bastard.” The growling grew and Dean pushed Castiel away, stood there steady for a moment.

 

Following Dean, Castiel took a deep breath.  On Ion’s belt was a radio that flicked with a red light. “The tower checks in with all personnel every few minutes. We won’t have long.”

 

Just as he was speaking, there was a whine and a static crackling as the radio answered a call. Taking the radio off his belt, Ion spoke into it as he leant his back against the wall. His companion yawned, grip loose on his gun.

 

“As soon as he’s finished speaking, we have to hurry.”

 

Just as Castiel finished speaking, Ion put the radio back on his belt.

 

Dean was the first to move, the soles of his boots scraped across the concrete as he launched himself at Ion. There was a change in Dean, a prickling in the air. Castiel saw the whites of Ion’s eyes, the fear as he was approached. The other soldier raised his gun to shoot but Castiel was faster, squeezing the trigger as a hard bang resounded in his ear. The soldier dropped without a noise and the moon’s reflection glimmered in the quickly growing pool of crimson blood.

 

There was a scream and as he looked, Dean had grabbed Ion by the throat and had him pinned him against the wall. Ion’s feet dangled and kicked against the wall as Dean’s knuckles turned white.

 

Sweat drenched Dean’s brow, there was a cut on his arm though he hadn’t seen it happen. Castiel walked up behind him, appearing out of the darkness before Ion.

 

Ion’s eyes bulged, grew wider when he saw him. Dean was snarling, muscles shifting and even from behind him he could see how his ears were elongating, how his chest was heaving and growing wider. More and more he was turning into one of the creatures from beyond the wall.

 

 

 

Ignoring the racing of his heart, he could hear shouts behind him and a siren start up with an ear piercing whine. “There’s no reason to kill him.” Castiel started, “We need to hurry and leave before reinforcement reach our position.”

 

Dean’s head whipped around, teeth sharp fangs and eyes glowing an infernal green. “What the hell, Cas! He nearly had you killed! Then he turned me in too!”

 

In the corner of his eye, he saw Ion moving, his fingers skirting along his belt towards his knife. Stepping forward, Castiel moved quickly as he fluidly flipped his rifle around and brought the stock forwards, hitting Ion hard in the brow. Ion groaned and slumped, eyes flickering shut as blood trickled from his temple in a lurid red line.

 

Carefully, Castiel put a hand on Dean’s arm. He was shaking, the drugs were still playing havoc with his body but in that trembling was a feral rage. Growls continuously streamed from his lips, his fangs had grown so large that they were pressing into his plush lower lips. “I know you Dean, you’re better than this. There’s no reason to kill him now, we can leave.”

 

Dean’s hand tightened, knuckles turning white and claws digging into his throat.

 

Carefully, he leaned in and kissed the back of his neck. “For me then.”

 

Finally, with a long drawn out sigh, Dean dropped him in a crumpled heap. “Fine, you’re too god damned soft Cas.”

 

Opening the gate, Castiel shrugged. “You’re better than the werewolves, Dean; you’re better than every human I’ve ever met too. Killing would make you like them both.”

 

Behind him, he could hear the footsteps growing closer, the sirens wailing along the walls.

 

But Dean didn’t say anything, merely pressed his lips into a line as he held onto Castiel’s shoulder again, leaning his weight against him. Quickly, they made their way down the ramp. Soon, they were far enough into the darkness that even the eyes on the walls wouldn’t spot them.

 

The various detritus of the city and the bodies of those that hadn’t made it inside with the initial rush with the Apocalypse littered the path. There were suitcases, golden empty bullet cases and a bloodied baby carrier that had been left on the hood of a car. They walked away from it, putting the city to their backs as they eventually reached the shelter of the woods.

 

Gigantic footsteps pounded the ground and Castiel raised his rifle again, struggling to see in the persistent inky darkness. But when he saw the green eyes coming towards them through the shadows, he sighed with relief.

 

Impala rushed up to them, whining and wagging his tail, licking over them both. “Take him home Impala.” Adjusting his grip on Dean, he put his hands under his armpits and helped him up onto the giant wolf’s back.

 

As he looked up at Dean, seated on soft black fur, warm wet tears tracked down his cheeks. “I’m going to miss you.”

 

Suddenly, their goodbyes were upon them and it caught Castiel by surprise, blindsiding him like a punch in the gut. His throat was tight, making it hard to breathe and even more difficult to speak.

 

Dean looked down at him, preternatural eyes piercing in the darkness. But then, he held out his hand and smiled at him, “Come with me. I can’t stand it when guys cry.”


	7. Home

_Six Months Later_

 

They had gone out that night, hunting in the moonlight.

 

But now the sun had risen and it had warmed the air. All around birds were waking, calling to one another as they took flight, chasing the insects and flies that had woken with the sun.

 

Finally, the cabin came into view. It was simple but it was beautiful in its simplicity, made of wood, of the surrounding environment and by Dean’s hands.

 

Slipping off Impala’s back, Dean stood on the ground with his hands out for him and Castiel took them again, their hands fitting together perfectly like two pieces made whole. Dean held him as he got off Impala, slowly lowering him to the ground with ease.

 

“Are you sure about this?” Castiel’s voice shook when he asked and he bit the inside of his cheek, the flare of pain keeping the fear from leeching into his voice and eyes.

 

“I’m sure.” Dean murmured with a smile.

 

Impala walked away from them, finding the stream to take a drink.

 

Dean led him to the bench, holding his hand tight. They sat down together, looking out over the stream. Impala raised his head, looked at them for a moment before walking away and into the sunlight of the forest.

 

Carefully, Dean put a hand on his cheek, stroking his thumb over his cheekbone. “Are you ready?”

 

Taking a deep breath, Castiel turned his head to kiss Dean’s soft palm. “Yes.”

 

Slowly, Dean inched closer across the bench. His lips grazed his neck before he kissed him softly, reverently, like he was blessing something sacred. Eyes fluttering shut, Castiel relaxed and at the same time Dean wrapped an arm around him, cradling him close to his chest. Taking slow, deep breaths he concentrated on Dean’s lips on his skin, warm touches that made sensation burst against his skin.

 

“Dean…” Castiel murmured as a faint moan radiated from his mouth.

 

“I know, no more teasing.”

 

There was a wet sensation as Dean licked the side of his throat where his neck connected with his collarbone. Castiel gasped, going rigid for a moment as Dean’s teeth broke the skin. Fangs sunk into his flesh and he moaned again, back arching off the bench, bringing him even closer to Dean. His bite was deep and it seemed to last an age.

 

Castiel’s heart was beating fast, his blood was pumping noisily through his ears but there was pleasure too curling in his gut. But more than that there was the sense of affection, of love, from Dean. It dawned on him that this bite showed him as Dean’s, that he was his and Castiel groaned at the thought, smiling.

 

Dean pulled away, licking over the fresh and bloody mark.

 

Castiel struggled to open his eyes and when he eventually did everything was sharp and clear and he could suddenly smell a thousand different scents dancing around them like invisible ghosts that stroked up against him. Even the wood of the bench seemed somehow alive.

 

“You’re my mate now and I’m yours.” Dean’s throat was thick with emotion. He nuzzled him with his nose as he held Castiel in his arms, who was too weak from the bite to sit up on his own. “I love you.”

 

Castiel smiled and rested his hand against Dean’s chest, right over where he could feel and hear his heart beating for him. “I love you.”

 

Arms slid under him and Castiel was lifted off the bench, every muscle in him lax. He looked up at the sky and clouds, saw he myriad of colors that he had never noticed before. Nature was a painting and he had been standing too far away to see the details where the true beauty laid hidden. Tilting his head, he looked at Dean as he carried him to the cabin. The freckles were a golden dusting of sunlight, his eyelashes delicate and long and his lips were the color of a lover’s blush. “I always thought you were gorgeous but now…you’re even more stunning.”

 

Dean looked down at him with pools of molten jade that swirled with love and affection for him and he smiled.

 

The cabin door closed after them and Dean brought him to the bedroom, carefully laying him down on the sheets. “You should get some rest, the bite takes a big toll on the human body.”

 

Castiel shook his head, hair whispering against the pillow. “No.” He held out his hands for Dean and he eagerly gave him his own and with the little strength he had, he tugged him down on top of him.

 

Everything was so much clearer now. How much he had fallen in love with Dean, how beautiful was and how much he wanted him. A soft growl reverberated in his throat and Dean laughed, raising an eyebrow. “You’re learning already.”

 

Humming, Castiel put his arms around Dean and began to kiss him all over his neck. Energy was quickly flooding back into his body, kindling that pleasurable heat he had felt when he had received the bite. “I want you.”

 

Castiel spread his legs, the twin throbs in his body from the bite and his cock making him pant, needy. “Just a little something, please Dean. I can take it, I’m tougher than I look.”

 

Chuckling, Dean tilted his head to the side. “You certainly are.” Leaning down, he captured his lips in a kiss and Castiel ran his hands through his hair, holding onto his short golden hair.

 

At the same time, he could feel Dean’s hand tracing down his body, feeling him fully for the first time. His fingers mapped out the defined muscles and hard bones of his body, touched the tight skin of his belly and then bumped into the cold metal of his belt buckle.

 

“You sure?”  Dean asked, “You just got bit, Cas.”

 

Castiel raised his back off the bed, body undulating in a wave. “God, yes. I didn’t realise how long I’ve been waiting for this.” It had hit him suddenly, he had been denying his need and love for Dean for so long. Innocent kisses and handholding weren’t enough anymore, not by a long shot. 

 

The clang of the belt buckle seemed incredibly loud to Castiel’s new ears and he smiled, lifting his hips off the bed slightly to help Dean take off his trousers. Dean couldn’t stop smiling and one fang pressed gently onto his bottom lip. Throwing the trousers onto the floor, he moved down him and kissed along his neck and thumbed the edge of his shirt. That too, was taken and Dean had free rein to kiss him over his tanned chest, to lick over a mole that was by his nipple. Castiel laughed softly, smiling, as he stroked Dean’s hair. He had been waiting so long, so damn long, his whole life for someone like Dean and he had nearly been too stubborn to see it.

 

Dean’s hand slipped into his briefs and his fingers circled his half hard cock. Castiel gasped and brought one of his hands to his mouth so he could bite his knuckles. Slowly, Dean began to stroke him as he kissed over his chest and neck, licking over his bite mark every now and again.

 

Castiel moaned, gently rutting his hips as he met the motions of Dean’s hand. “That’s it…” Dean murmured, “That’s my good boy.” Castiel whimpered, staring down at Dean whose eyes were dancing with lust, cheeks flushed a light pink.

 

Dean’s hand twisted under the head of his cock and he ran the soft pad of his thumb over the slit of his cock. Castiel gasped, bucking up. “Oh, god.” He wouldn’t last long, he knew that now, not with Dean touching him and watching him like he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

 

Almost as though he had heard him, Dean spoke, “You’re beautiful, so gorgeous, Cas.”

 

Castiel moaned, loud and long as he pumped up, cock aching as he spilled precome over his fingers. Dean hushed him softly, “It’s okay,” Teeth were on him again, over the same mark, biting him again and Castiel’s eyes widened and with a hoarse cry he came, the knot in his belly coming undone as he felt the pleasure rush through his body, making him tingle and gasp.

 

Dean licked his lips and drew his hand out from his briefs. He kissed him again, soft and slow as Castiel struggled to regain his breath. “I love you, Castiel, my mate.”

 

“I love you, Dean, my mate.” It sounded right to say, flowed off his tongue like a mountain stream finding its basin.

 

The sun shone on them through the window, warming them and Castiel saw their green paradise over Dean’s freckled shoulder and smiled. He turned away from it and kissed Dean’s warm chest.

 


End file.
